The wonders of nature and providence, displayed

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. v, I

WOJVDERS

OF

DISPLAYED.

COMPILED

FROM AUTHENTIC SOURCES, BOTH ANCIENT AND MQDERN,

ACCOUNT OF VARIOUS AND STRANGE PHENOMENA

EXISTING IN NATURE,

or

TRAVELS, ADVENTURES, SINGULAR PROVIDENCES, Ac.

Hearken — tUnd still and consider the wondrous works of God.

Job.

ALBANY: > ^ \

PUBLISHED BY JOSIAH PRIEST. ; * :

t. AND E. HOSFOBD, PBItrTEBC. f / •

1826.

, — ■ xKC

\- T; . ,% V!EV." YOIM 1

784833

■ 7i.u-; : ■ . ■- ■

;;'.r\/ : ; .....

-ay.

DISTRICT Of NEW-YORK, TO WIT;

IT REMEMBERED, That on the lecond day of June in the forty-tight rear
t of the Independence of the United Steles of America, A. D. 1824, Jonah Priest
V|% of the taid district, hath deposited in this office the title of a Book the right
~ ' whereof be chums as author in the words following to wit:

M The Wonders of Nature and Providence displayed : compiled from authentic sources
* both Ancient and Modem, giving an account of rations ana ttrange Phenomena exist-
M law in nature, and of travels, adventures, singular providences, Ac. Hearken, stand
M atu% and consider the wondrous works ol God. —Job. By Josiah Priest"

lb conformity to the act of the Congress of the United States, entitled " An act for
■'0 the encouragement of learning, by sucurimr ihe copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to
she authors and proprietor* of such copies during the times therein mentioned and
also, to the act entitled "An act supplementary to an act entitled • An act for the encour-
t of learning, by securing the copies of Maps* Charts, and Books, to the authors

and proprietors of such copies during the times therein montgontdy and extending the
biMIs thereof to the arts of Designing, Engraving end Etching historical and other

***** R. R. LANSING, Clerk

of the Northern District of N. York.

Great are tbe works of the Lord, sought oot of them that fear
him. The heavens, with all their brilliant hosts, declare his glo-
rious majesty — tbe earth is full of the demonstrations of his
goodness. He openeth his hand and satisfieth the desire of every
living thing. JVoJnre and Providence are one vast volume in
winch God's wondrous works are displayed : it is written in
characters which may be read of all nations under the who)*
heavens, in their own language. It consists not of words, but
of things, which admirably point out tbe Divine perfections.

The firmament and tbe great expanse of infinity, are probably
garnished evwry where with the bright monuments of his power*
The sun, robed in tbe mantle of iris own fires, sits as a king lb
the midst of his shilling courtiers. Myriads of other suns bont
on their flaming axles, and from the centre of their systems, pour
the ocean of their light all over the bosom of unbounded space,
lighting up, in nndescribed splendour, the great palace of the
Universe. And around them. move in raaxy dance, theobsequiots
planets ; whole armies of constellation keep watch while they
travel the great circuit of other heavens, and with their tissues
of primeval majesty, express the matchless power of the Creator.

Behold the great energies of nature are under his control !
In his fist are gathered the roaring wiods $ the mighty storm
sleeps there as the lion in the caves of the mountains. By his
hand tbe red lightnings are held at bay, but at his word they fly
and out speed the careering winds. By their flash the great
concave of heaven is lighted up, from the tops of Pagan hills
in the east, to where the fires of the sun plunge the western main.
At his beck, the furious tornado is hushed to a zephyr, the thun-
ders that ride upon the watery clouds are awed to silence ; the
cloud cap9 1 bHlows of the deep, bow at his presence, and point
t their flashing summits to tbe gulphs below. The snow, the
rain, and the hoar frost descend from the middle regions, by bb
providence ; lo these are but pajts of his ways. Anon he stoops
from the highest heaven— from the clear h valine where he stood,
and lo His way is seen among the sons of men.

Now he treads upon the mountains— they smoke and tremble
to their base — a fiery flame ascends to the mid^t of heaven, like oj
mighty furnace, and his voice is like the sound bf many waters.

Earth groans to her centre— thunder and storm rage aloof
their courses— earthquakes and volcanoes roar from the tops of
[ the mountain*— the ocean boils like a pot, and spouts from die

iv

PREFACE-

depths beneath, pyramids of fire* Th* fearful whirlwind plun-
ges from the convulsed clouds, sweeps across the earth, dashing
in heaps of ruin the fairest works of man. Tall forests bend
beneath its force, taring the strongest oaks from their rooted
base, and on its whirling bosom bares them aloft to the won-
dering skies. Mountains tremble beneath the dreadful pres-
sure, and from their benched cliffs, tumble the loosened rocks
to the vales beneath : these are the ministers of his providence
and power.

The infinite variety of creatures that inhabit the earth, the
ocean, and the air, show his amazing skill ; the teeming shower,
the sunshine and the yellow sheaf, show his bounteous goodness.

The contemplation of a Divine Providence is consoling and pro- /
Stable : we feel ourselves drawn from the creature to the Creator.

The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice ! the reigns of gov-
ernment are in the hands of him who needs no counsellor.
Though the fool has said in his heart there is no God, yet both
His word and providence declare to the ends of the earth, say-
ing, verily there is a God, who hath set his throne in the heavens,
and his kingdom reigneth over all. Shall we not say prov-
idence is God in motion, is God teaching by facts, is God ful-
filling and explaining his word In his own way however in-
scrutable to the km of men or angels ?

Though clouds and darkness are round about him, righteous-
ness and judgment are the habitations of his throne.

No pains have been spared in the compilation of this book,
to collect from rare and valuable publications, both of Europe
and America, (which are but little known by reason of their
magnitude and scarcity,) such accounts as show the way of
the Lord iu his works and providence. There can be no doubt,
that to be indifferent to these, whether it be a nation or an in-
dividual, is highly sinful.

The eyes of all ought to wait upon him, whose wonders fill
heaven, earth and hell. How vast the amplitude of his power !
the ocean of illimitable space is the field of his operations.

The accounts given respecting the Roman Catholic hierar-
chy, are a record of facts whiclt show that a spirit of persecu-
tion was not only an ancient mark of that overgrown supersti-
tion, but that it retains all its virulence to the present day.

#It affords much pleasure to reflect, that so large a work is
npw presented to its thousands of patrons, for so small a price,
gathered from those who have recorded, from age to age, the
wonderful works and providences of the Most High.

JOSIAH PRIEST.

Albany, August 17, 1825.

CONTENTS.

Preface, .... page 3

Accounts of serpents of various kinds, - §
Of the Cerastes and similar serpents, - - - 18
Of the Horn Nosed Snake of Africa, - 26

Of the Anaconda of the East Indies, - - 27

Of the Halcydrus-Pontoppidani a serpent of the ocean, 32
Of the Scorpion and its dreadful properties, - - 35
Of apparitions in general, with several curious relations, 37
An account of apparitions by Josephus the historian, - 45
An account of the commencement of the kingdom of Mexico,
and Of eleven of its kings, and of supernatural presages of
its overthrow by the Spaniards, - 47

A remarkable dream and its fulfilment, -% - - 61

A curious memorandum upon the subject.of giants, - 63
A remarkable account of a sea captain, - - - 70

An account of the fearful Simoon of Arabia, - 75
The travels of Bruce in various parts of the southern hemis-
phere, - - - ' - - 80
his account of the wild beasts of these countries — hfc ac-
companies a hunting party, - - * 81
of the sagacity of a young elephant, - - - 83
his journey across the desert of Thebaid, and a description
of the Arab houses, ------ 87

the Turks opinion of the origin of the English, - - 89
of the marble quarries of the desert, 90
of red and green granite marble, - - - - 92

of the beautiful appearance of the marble mountains, 93
his account of a singular custom of the people of the red
sea for the preservation of christians, - - - 97
Bruce's travels continued, ... 98

his account and opinion, and the evidence he urges to prove ■
that the Israelites did cross the red sea on dry ground, 99'
a tradition of the Troglodytes, of the passage of the He-
brews through the red Sea, - - - - 102

vi

Bruce continued, - - - - - - I9i3

his travels in Abyssinia and desert of N«bia, - - ib.
his terror at sight of an army of fiery sand pillars, - 1 04
he takes an Arab and wife prisoners, - - - 106
their trials for life, their sentence, - - - 114
a description of the Simoon, - - - - - 106

his sufferings on the desert, and his joy at sight o( three

kites, -1*4

he swooned at the scent or food, - 12?
abused in the streets of Grand Cairo, - 181
Bruce continued,
his account of the visit of {he queen of Sheba to Jerusa-
lem in the days of king Solomon, - - ~ 134
the queen of Sheba's son by Solomon, educated at Jeru-
salem, - - - - - - - -136

A horrible account of the eating of live flesh by the Abyssin-
ians, - -- -- -- - 138

An account of a Rattle Snake, - - - - -143

An aecount of the reptile named Salamander both of land
and water, - - - - - - 146

An account of the Tarantula, - - - - - 149

Of the fossil asbestos, - , - - - - - 150

Singular adventure of a Stork, - - - - -151

Of the wonderful properties of the Polypus, - - 1 52
Of the phenomena of meteors and other fires. - - 157
Of the Ignis Fatuus, - - - - - 161

Of the phenomena of whirl-winds, and water spouts, - 1 64
Of the wonderful properties of Lobsters, and of sea and land

Crabs, 166

Of the animal Flower of Barbadoes,. - * v - 171

Of two remarkable Echos, 172

Remarkable accounts of Hair, - - - - - 172
Strange customs of the Mexicans, -% - - * 173

Singular accounts of Iron, - - - - - 187
Jjk, singular Providence, - - • - - 188
Memoirs of the Martyr Polycarp, - - - - 190
Remarkable account of David Sands, - 202
Q/k Deist confuted, 204

A prisoner among savage!*, * * • - 5^14

Singular fulfilment of a strange prophecy, * 223

Singular deliverance from two monsters, - 227

Winderful visions in various ages, ... 289

An accouil of the subterranean galleries of the dead, 244

A tremendous thunder storm, - 256

An adventure in the mines of Idra, - 251

Idol worship of the Mexicans, - 253

" Bartram's researches in the woods of America, «• 261

Sufferings of a black slave, - 274

Accounts of Anions Infidels, - gjffi

Am apparition seen by an Infidel, - ggg

Death of Thomas Paine, - - - - ~ - 289
An account of the Roman Catholic Inquisition at Got hi

the East Indies, - - - - - - 291

Of the inquisition in Spain, • - - - . ggg

Of the inquisition in-ltaly, - $qq

Of persecutions of Christians, - . - - . 333

A Soldier delivered from the jaws of a tyger, - - 331

Of the phenomena of fire in general and of earthquakes, 334
4 Proofs that the Indians of North America are descended from

the ancient Hebrews, - - - - - 372

Phenomenon of stone being thrown from the moon - 408
Mr. Howard's account of the phenomena of stones falling

from the heavens, - - - - - - 412

Further account of the same phenomena, - - - 414

Supernatural phenomena, - - - - - 420

Observations on comets, - ... - _ 427

Supernatural phenomena, - 428

Of the phenomena of light, - 431
The sufferings of Thecla, and an account of St. Paul's

person, - -- -- -- - 435

Of the diamond mines in Hindostau, - 442

The providence of God asserted, - 447

A strange providence, ------ 450

Of the local situation of the garden of Eden, - ~ 452

The works of God displayed, ----- 455

A man possessed of the devil, -

Tni ctwrcwrs.

Narrative of two Roman scholars, - 465

Of a poison tree and its effects, .... 468

An account of the foifntain tree, - - - - 471

•* Travels aud adventures among savages, - - <fa72

A traveller taken and confined by robbers, «* 534

Natural history of the earth and effects of the deluge,

An account of God's providence towards a poor gilder, JtSk

A wonderful providence, . . . - fife

Strange detection, and just punishment of a murderer of

seven small children. ------ 567

Remarkable account of two Quakers who escaped from

robbers, - -- -- -- - 559

A wonderful providence, or a supernatural interference, 562

Of a man who had a view of heaven and hell, - - 563

A strange account of a beautiful lady's death, - - 565

A very remarkable dream, ----- $66

A description of a wonderful clock, ... 558

An attempt to describe the day of Judgment, - - 570

The infidels chemical mistake detected, - - - 5§0
An account of the identical Rock which was smitten by

Motes at Horeb, - 581

A wonderful account of a man restored to life after being

hanged, 583

An interesting account of the manner the ancients used to

embalm their dead, - 592

An account of the Asiatic locust, - - - 596

An .awful providence, ------ 598

Works of gpd displayed, 599

INDEX FOR THE ENGRAVINGS,
of those copies that have them in.
Plate I Page 9

IX.. 435

I ' 1111: AT LVr.l.'.'.-i'l.^sVi'Ull-l':)!; ul' AKIil

THE

WONDERS OF NATURE, <&A

OF SERPENTS.

Extracted from the celebrated Calmefs Dictionary of the Bible.

The following account may be relied on as truth. Calmet being
well known to the literary world as a judicious writer of natural
history.

It may be remarked, that the account here given of Dragons and
those large and fearful Serpent* which inhabit the mountains^
low lands, and seas of the Indies, Africa, ty-c. remarkably il-
lustrate many passages found in the writings of the Holy
Scriptures, where those monsters are alluded by way to of com-
parison.

THE DRAGON, SEA SERPENTS, AND FLYING SER-
PENTS.

Jt appears, from several places in this work, that if wc have
not -annihilated those numerous dragons which occur in our pub-
lic translation, yet we have changed them for creatures of ve-
ry different kinds ; it is therefore, in some degree, incumbent
on us to clear up, so far as our information reaches, the true
creature which Scripture intends by the term dragon : and that
we may be certain of our instance on this subject, we select that
of the great red dragon of the Revelations, which also is ex-
pressly called a serpent. Chap. xii. 3. "Behold, 1st, a great,
2dly, a red dragon, ^***», having 3dly, seven heads, and 4thly,
ten horns, his tail drew the third part of the stars of heaven,
the dragon stood before the woman to devour her child, and the
serpent cast out of his mouth water as a stream [flood] after
the woman, that he might cause her to be knocked down, car-
ried away, by the stream of water." The descriptiou andf
manners of this dragon have greatly embarrassed commentators.
Dr. Doddridge observes on the passage," I suppose most of my
readers well know, that a dragon is a vast serpent of enormous

10 . , TAe Wmders of

balk. Job the celebrated African, assured me, that one of them
carried away a live cow in its mouth, before his face." But on this
serpent's ejection of water, he professes his " ignorance of any
fact to illustrate it." I shall observe on the particulars of this
dragon in their order.

1st, The dimensions of this dragon, " great." We may, I pre-
sume, seek the counterparts of this reptile among serpents of the
largest size, for which we shall look to that class called by natu-
ralists, boa.

The dragon is frequently mentioned by ancient naturalists : by
Aristotle, lib. ix. Diod. Sicul. lib. iii. &c. St. Ambrose, de
Mor. Brach. p. 63. says, there were dragons seen in the neigh-
bourhood of the Ganges near seventy cubits in length.* Alex-
ander and his army saw one of this size in a cave, to their great
terror, Elian, lib. xv. cap 21. -

Three kinds of dragons were formerly distinguished in India.
1st, Those of the hills and mountains ; 2dly, those of the rallies
and caves ; 3dly, those of the fens and marshes. ' The first is the
largest, and covered with scales, as resplendent as burnished

Sid. They have a kind of beard hanging from their lower jaw,
sir aspect is frightful, their cry loud and shrill, their crest bright
yellow, and they have a protuberance on their heads, the colour
of a burning coal. 2dly, Those of the flat country are of a silver co-
lour, and frequent rivers, to which the former never come. 3dly,
Those of the marshes are black, slow, and have no crest. Strabo
says, the painted serpents with wings is contrary to truth ; but
other naturalists and travellers, ancient and modern, affirm that
some species are winged. [There is much confusion on this
subject. Some have mistaken the hood of the naja for wings ;
others for a crest ; others have confounded the innocent lizard-
dragon with flying serpents ; and therefore report, as Pliny does,
that their bite is not venomous, though the creatures be dreadful,
which indeed is true of the boa, or proper dragon.]

The following is mostly translated, or abstracted, from count
de la Cepede : The boa is among serpents, what the lion or the
elephant is among quadrupeds ; he usually reaches twenty feet
in length, and to this species we must refer those described by
travellers, as lengthened to forty or fifty feet, as related by Owen,
Nat. Hist. Serp. p. 15. Kircher mentions a serpent forty palms
in length ; and such a serpent is referred to by Job Ludolph, p.
165. as extant in Ethiopia. St. Jerom, in his life of Hilarion,
denominates such a serpent, draco, a dragon; sayiug, that they
were called boas, because they could swallow, boves, beeves, and
waste whole provinces. Bosman says, entire men have, fre-
quently, been found in the gullets of serpents, on the Gold Const;

Nature and Providence.

II

but ibe longest serpent I have read of, is that mentioned by Livy,
and by Pliny, which opposed the Roman army under Regnlus, at*
the river Bagrada in Africa. It devoured several of* the soldiers ;
and so hard were its scales, that they resisted darts and spears;
at length it was, as it were, besieged, and the military engines
were employed against it, as against a fortified city. It was an
hundred and twenty feet in length. Its skin was sent to Rome as
a trophy, and was preserved in one of the temples there, Plinjfc
lib. xviii. capt. 14. Add the following testimonies:

"At Batavia was once taken a serpent, which had swallowed
an entire stag of a large size: one taken at Baud a had done the
same by a negro woman," Baldeus, in Churchill, vol.iii. p. 782.

"Leguat in his travels says, there are serpents fifty. feet long
in the island of Java. At Batavia (hoy still keep the skin of one,
which though but twenty feet in length, is said to have swallowed
a young maid whole," Burbot, in Churchill, vol. v. p. 560

"The serpent guaku, or liboya, [bon] is questionless the big-
gestof all serpents ; some being eighteen, twenty-four, nay, thirty
feet long, and of the thickness of a man in the middle. The
Portuguese call it kobre de hado, or the roebuck serpent, because
it will swallow a whole roebuck, or oilier detr; and this is per-
formed by sucking it through the throat, which is pretty narrow;
but the belly vastly big. Such an one I saw near Pariba, which
was thirty feet long, and as big as a barrel. Some negroes acciden-
tally saw it swallow a roebuck, whereupon thirteen musketeers
were sent out, who shot it and cut the roebuck out of its belly.—
It is not venomous — This serpent being a very devouring
creature, greedy of prey, leaps from among the hedges and woods,
and standing upright on its tail, wrestles both with men and wild
beasts: sometimes it leaps from the trees upon the traveller,
whom it fastens on, and beats the breath out of his body with its
tail," Nieuhofl; in Churchill, vol. ii. p. 13.

2dly, I would call the attention of the reader to the immense
serpent of Regulus, especial \y because there is a strong pro-
bability that it might have been in the mind of the writer of the
Revelations; who, as we have seen, describes a power most ter-
ribly distressing, under the figure of a dragon : a red dragon. On
which observe, 1st, That the dragon of antiquity was, no doubt,
a prodigious serpent, cuch as is described in our extracts abovg;
for which acceptation Jerom's authority may be at present suffi-
cient. 2dly, That the colour most conspicuous in the great boa
i« rerf, which is very handsomely formed into figures, and com-
poses a beautiful maculated pattern ; so that the idea of r«rf, but
not exclusively blood rerf, in this instance, is drawn from nature;
and perhaps the colour of some individuals of this species may
be of a deeper red than those of others. It is impossible to con-

12

The Wonders of

vey the idea of this redness, and its application to the boa, with-
out colours, but, so far as I recollect, the redness is rather that
of brick than of blood. Our extracts assert, that tbis serpent
strikes vehemently with his tail; which is according to the re-
presentation of the apocalyptic writer.

3dly,As to the seven heads of the great red dragon, it is well
known, that there is a species of snake amphisbena, or double
headed, but, the apparent heads of this snake are, one at each end
owhim, and one of these is apparent only, not real. There is,
indeed, a kind of serpent which is so often found with two heads
growing from one neck, that some have fancied it might form a
species, but we have as yet no authority adequate to that effect
It follows, that the number of heads is entirely allegorical. 1
only remark, that this dragon of the apocalypse is not absolutely
singular, if the fable of the dragon having seven heads, compared
with the dragon having seven tails, was extant anciently.

4thly, The ten horns of this dragon must be allegorical also.
• As to the flood of water ejected by this dragon, I do not know
of any receptacle which serpents have for containing such a pro-
vision; and the nearest approach toward it, which I have been
able to find, is the following:

Beverly, in his account of Virginia, mentions, pressing the
roof of the mouth of a rattlesnake, whose head was recently cut
off, and the venom spirted out like the current of blood in blood
letting.

Gregory, the friend of Ludolph, says, Hist. Eth. lib. i. cap. 13,
"We have in our province a sort of serpent as long as the arm.
He is of a glowing red colour, but somewhat brownish ; he hides
himself under bushes and grass. This animal has an offensive
breath; and he breathes out [spirts out, ejects, I rather think] a
poison so venomous and stinking, that a man or beast within
reach of it, is sure to perish quickly by it unless immediate as-
sistance be given."

"At Mouree, a great snake being half under a heap of stones,
and the other half out, a man cut it in two at the part which was
out from among the stones ; and as soon as the heap was re-
moved, the reptile, turning, made up to the man, and spit such
venom in hU face as quite blinded him, and so he continued some
days, but at last recovered his sight," Barbot, in Churchill, vol.
v.p. 213.

This history is remarkable, because the venom of poisonous
serpents is usually ejected by a perforation in their cheek teeth,
or fangs; this ejection accompanies the act of biting, and it does
not appear that this man was bitten. Moreover, whether the
matter spirted by this serpent was venom, does not appear, nor
what effect it had, or might have had on parts not so tender as

JVatun and Providmce.

the eve. .Nevertheless, we learn from this instance, that ser-
pents have a power of throw ing out from their mouth a quantity
of thud, of an injurious nature, and a quantity of such fluid pro-
portionate to the immense size of this dragon, is what in the Rev-
elations is called a stream* which, happily for the woman at
whom it was aimed, was received by the opening earth. [I
rather think this was not properly venom, and the writer of tn£
apocalypse does not say it was ; these great serpents not being
a eiiomous, strictly speaking.]

Having thus admitted the real dragon of Scripture to its pro-
}>ef place, and proved not only the existence, but the manners of
this reptile, in conformity to Scripture accounts, it may not be
amiss to consider, whether lie does not pretty closely represent
the Hebrew nahash ; which, perhaps, is sometimes taken gcneri-
< 'illy for all the serpent tribes: and sometimes for the largest
kind, "the serpent," or dragon, by eminence. Of the first ac-
ceptation of the word nahash, we have an instance, Jer. viii. 17.
where we read of serpents, nahashim, which is explained by
fjcphouim, hereby determining what kind of nchashim should be
selected as most venomous and fatal. The second acceptation
of this word is not uncommon ; and Parkhurst assimilates it to
the dragon of the Greeks.

But we ought to observe the application of this word, nahash,
to a sea serpent also ; and here I confess want of information. Is
there more than one kind of sea serpent ? if so, what are their
differences ? Thes" questions I have not been so happy as to an-
swer to my own satisfaction ; but, observe, 1st, That most ser-
pents are amphibious, and take to the water readily. 2dly, That
the great boa is not afraid even of wide rivers and high waves :
he may be destroyed by fire, but water he does not fear. Let us
combine our evidence on this difficult article.

There seems to be at least one kind of large serpent, which
ventures a considerable distance out to Sea ; this appears to be
a land serpent, equally as it is a water serpent ; but, I have read
of proper water serpents, seen too far out at sea to be supposed
natives of the land ; these are true hydras ; but their varieties ,
colours, manners, and other particularities, are not, I believe,
well understood. The following histories seem rather to belong
to amphUnous serpents.

" Serpents are very common all over the isle of Ceylon ; the
sea serpents are torn* times fight, nine, or ten yards long. The
most dangerous serpents arc the cobras di capellas. The Mala-
bar* call the serpent* pambo and najah, and give their cattle and
children their names : nay, they feed them because they should
do tbem no harm," IJaldaeus in Churchill, vol. iii. p. 731.

"Peter Van Coerden, admiral of the Dutch fleet in the East

14

The Wonders of

Indies, says, Uiat while he was at anchor on the coast of Mozaui-
bic, a boy that was washing himself by the ship's side was seized
by the middle by a serpent of enormous size, that dragged him
under water at once in the sight of the whole fleet," Harris,
Voyages, vol. ii. p. '175.

P. Van den Broek says, that at Golconda there are serpents
of prodigious size, the bite of which is instantly mortal ; and ob-
serves further, that whenever these creatures arc seen at sea, it is a
certain sign of their being near the Indian coast."

" Admiral Verhoven tells us a singular story of a sea serpent
in the straits of Sincapoua. A seaman, washing himself by the
ship's side, was seized by one of these creatures, on which he
roared so loud, that one of his companions threw him a rope, and
pulled him into the ship; but the serpent had torn such apiece
out of his side, that he died immediately. The serpent continued
about the ship, till at last it was taken, and was the largest they
had tver seen. On opening its belly, they found therein the
piece of flesh which he had torn from the sailor, and which they
buried with him," Harris, ib. Adm Verhoven's Voyage, p. 02.

I see no reason for doubting the existence of true sea serpents
at least equal in dimensions with land serpents ; I think I have
read of some eight or nine feet long ; but whether these possess
venom I do not know. However, the stories quoted may justify
the sacred writers in speaking of sea serpents, which they call
nahash : as Amos ix. 3. u Though they hide in the bottom of the
sea, thence will I command the serpent, nahash, and he shall
bite them."

The reader will connect with this, the recollection that we have
a nahash also in the heavens, for so Job expresses himself xxvi.
12. '* By his spirit he hath garnished the heavens ; his hand hath
formed the crooked serpent." This crooked serpent, whatever
constellation it may be, is clearly referred to ihe heavens ; and
whether it is, as some have supposed, a constellation around the
north pole, or, as others think, the milky way, whose tortuous
course not unaptly represents the windings of a serpent's form
and track, can only be hinted at, not fully discussed, in this
place.

I would merely hint further, that since it was a nahash which
tempted Eve, not a peten, nor a tjephon, it is of consequence to
notice the application of this word ; lest, perad venture, we should
attribute that action to a serpent of a kind totally different from
what was designed by the sacred writer ; which error could only
be the occasion pf others, perhaps not equally innoxious.

I take the present opportunity of suggesting a thought or two,
en the existence of flying serpents ; as Scripture is usually un-
derstood to mention them.

Nature and Providence.

15

Michaelis says, Quest, lxxxiii. speaking of such serpents, 11 Al-
though modern naturalists have not communicated any satisfac-
tory information respecting flying serpents, yet they are so often
spoken of by the ancient writers of nations near to the equator,
who may be better acquainted with the nature of serpents than
we are, that I dare boldly recommend further inquiries to tra-
vellers, respecting the existence of flying serpents. If there be
any, and if they have been seen by witnesses deserving of credit,
I beg every information, name, &c." This inquiry is interesting;
and though wc are unable to affirm, that serpents, flying by means
of wings, inhabit those countries to which Scripture more partic-
ularly refers, yet if they exist now in any country, it will be so
much in proof of the possibility, that they formerly might exirt
in other countries.

Barbot, after mentioning serpents on the coast of Guinea thirty
feet long, as the blacks assured him, says, " They also told me,
there are winged serpents or dragons, having a forked tail, and a
prodigious wide mouih, full of sharp teeth ; extremely mischiev-
ous to mankind, more particularly to small children. If we may
credit this account of the blacks, these are of the same sort of
winged serpents, which some authors assure us, are to be found
in Abyssinia, being very great enemies to the elephants. Barhot,
in Churchill, vol. v. p. 213.

" In the woods of Java are certain flying snakes, or rather
drakes, [dra/cos"] they have four legs, a long tail, and their skins
speckled with many spots ; their wings are not unlike those of a
bat, which they move in flying, but otherwise keep them almost
unperceived close to the body. They fly nimble, but cannot
hold it long, so that they fly from tree to tree, at about twenty or
thirty paces distance. On the outside of the throat are two blad-
ders, which being extended when they fly, serve them instead of
a sail. They feed on flies and other insects. The Javanesses
do not in the least account tlieni poisonous, but handle them just
like common snakes, without the least danger," NieuhofF in
Churchill, vol. ii. p. 29G. [These are flying lizards% not serpents.]

Niebuhr says, "There are at ISazra a sort of serpents called
licit sursurie, or he ie thiarc. They commonly keep on the date
trees; and as it would be troublesome to them to come down a
high tree, and creep up another, they hang by the tail to a branch
of one tree, and by swinging that about, take advantage of its mo-
tion to leap to a second. These the modern Arabs call flying
serpents^ heie thidre. I do not know whether the ancient Arabs
saw any other kind of flying serpent. Some Europeans from
Bombay assured me, that they had seen serpents with two heads ;
and others with two foot," [which is certainly true.] Then ho
nllndcs to Anson's Voyaere in further proof.

lb

t The Wonders of

The words in Anson's Voyage are, " The Spaniards too, in-
formed us, that there was often found in the woods a most mis-
chievous serpent, called the flying snake; which, they said,
darted itself from the boughs of trees, on either man or beast
that came within its reach, and whose sting they believed to be
inevitable death," p. 308. 8vo. The reader will observe, this
is report.

To conclude by returning to the dragon :

The following is the latest, and most distinct account of one
of these large serpents which I have been able to procure : 1
hope no apology is necessary for alluding to an inhabitant of
South America ; I have been extremely jealous on such excur-
sions. It combines several particulars which coincide with our
purpose, though it differs certainly from the red dragon of Asia
or Africa.

"We bad not gone above twenty yards through mud and water,
the negro looking every way with an uncommon <'egre<: of viva-
city and attention ; when, starting behind me, he called out," Me
see snake !" and in effect, there lay the animal, rolled up un-
der the falling leaves and rubbish of the trees ; and so well co-
vered, that it was some time before I distinctly perceived the
head of this monster, distant from me not above sixteen feet,
moving its forked tongue, while its eyes, from their uncommon
brightness, appeared to emit sparks of fire. I now, resting my
piece upon a branch, for the purpose of taking a sure aim, fired ;
but missing the head, the ball went through the body, when the
animal struck round, and with such astonishing force as to cut
away all the underwood around him with the facility of a scythe
mowing grass ; and by flouncing his tail, caused the mud and
dirt to fly over our heads to a considerable distance. Of this
proceeding however we were not torpid spectators, but took to
our heels, and crowded into the canoe ... I now found the
snake a little removed from his former station, but very quiet,
with his head as before, lying out among the fallen leaves, rotten
bark, and old moss. I fired at it immediately, but with \\o better
success than the other time : and now, being but slightly wound-
ed, he sent up such a cloud of dust and dirt, as I never saw but
in a whirlwind, and made us once more suddenly retreat ....
Having once more discovered the snake, we discharged both
our pieces at once, and with this good effect, that he was now by
one^of us shot through the head. David, who was made com-
pletely happy by this successful conclusion, ran leaping with joy,
and lost no time in bringing the boat rope, in order to drag him
down to the canoe ; but this again proved not a very easy under-
taking, since the creature, notwithstanding its being mortally
wounded, still continued to writhe and twist about, in such a

Nofute arid T*r*vi2ence.

It

manner -as rendered it dangerous for any person to approach
him. The negro, however, having made a running noose on
the rope, after some fruitless attempts to make an approach!
threw it over his head with much dexterity ; and now, all taking
hold of the rope, we dragged him to the beach, and tied him to
the stern of the canoe, to take him in tow. Being still alive, he
kept swimming like an eel ; and I having no relish for such ft
shipmate on board, whose length, notwithstanding, to my aston-
ishment, all the negroes declared it to be but a young one come
to about half its growth, I found upon measuring it to be twenty-
two feet and some inches ; and its thickness about that of my
black boy Quaco, who might then be about twelve years old, and
round whose waist I since measured the creature's skin.

The negro David having climbed up a tree with the end of the
rope, let it down over a strong forked bough, and the other ne-
groes hoisted up the snake, and suspended him from the tree.
This done, David, with a sharp knife between his teeth, now left
the tree, and clung fast upon the monster, which was still twisting,
and began bis operations by ripping it up, and stripping down the
skin as he descended. Though 1 perceived that the animal was
no longer able to do him any injury, I confess I could not without
emotion see a man starjt naked, black and bloody, clinging with
artns and legs round the slimy and yet living monster. This la-
bour, however, was not without its use, since he not only dex-
terously finished the operation, but provided me, besides the
skin, with above four gallons of fine clarified fat, or rather oil
though there was wasted perhaps as much more. When I signi-
fied my surprise to see the snake still living, after he was depriv-
ed of his intestines and skin, Carmaco, the old negro, whether
from experience or tradition, assured me he would not die till
after sunset.

This wonderful creature in the Colony of Surinam is called Ab-
oraa. Its length, when full grown, is said to be sometimes forty
feet, and more than four feet in circumference ; its colour Is a
greenish black on the back ; a fine brownish yellow on the sides*
and a dirty white under the belly ; the back and sides being
spotted with irregular black rings, with a pure white in the mid-
dle. Its head is broad and flat„small in proportion to the body,
with a large mouth, and a double row of teeth ; it has two bright
prominent eyes : is covered all over with scales, some about the
size of a shilling ; and under the body, near the tail, armed with
two strong claws like cockspurs, to help it in seizing its prey. It
is an amphibious animal, that is, it delights in low and marshy
places, where it lies coiled up like a rop$ and eoncealed under
moss, rotten timber, and dried leaves, to seize pfey \fg snt*
prise, which from its immense bulk it Is trot actfvfe e&talgp

THe Won&rs of-

pufsue,. When hungry, it will devour any animal, that come*
within its reach, and is indifferent whether it is a sloth, a wild
boar, a stag, or 'even a tiger ; round which having twisted itself
by the help of its claws, so that the creature cannot escape, it
breaks, by its irresistible force, every bone in the animal's body,
which it then covers over with a kind of slime or slaver from its
mouth, to make it slide ; and at last gradually sucks it in, till it
disappears ; after this, the aboma cannot shift its situation, on ac-
count of the great knob or knot which the swallowed prey occa-
sions in that part of the body where it rests, till it is digested ;
for till then it would hinder the snake from sliding along the

f round. During that time the aboma wants no other subsistence,
have been told of negroes being devoured by this animal,
and am disposed to credit the account; for should they chance
to come within its reach when hungry, it would as certainly seixe
them as any other animal. The bite of this snake is said not to
b€ venomous ; nor do I believe it bites at all from any other im-
pulse than hunger," Stedraan's Expedition to Surinam, vol. i.
p. 170.

OF THE CERASTES, AND SIMILAR SERPENTS.

The cerastes, or horned viper, is among the most fatal of the
serpent tribe. It is, moreover, well distinguished from all others,
by the peculiarity of its horns ; and it is abundant in Egypt aud
in Syria, so that it could not escape the notice and allusions of
the sacred writers. I believe it is agreed, on all hands, that this
serpent is mentioned in scripture j but the difficulty is to deter-
mine which of the Hebrew appellations of serpents describes
this species especially.

Mr. Bruce has favoured us with a figure of this creature, and
with a considerable account of its manners, part of which we
shall extract. He says, " there is no article of natural history
die ancients have dwelt on more than that of the viper, whether
poets, physicians, or historians. All have enlarged upon the
particular sizes, colours, and qualities, yet the knowledge of
their manners is but little extended.

"I have travelled across the Cyrenaicumin all its directions,
and never saw but one species of viper, which was the cerastes,
or horned viper, now before us ; neither did I ever see any of
the snake kind that could be mistaken for the viper.

" The basilisk is a species of serpent, frequently made men-
tion of in Scripture, though never described, further than that he
cannot be charmed so«s to do no hurt, nor trained so as to delight
in music ; which all travellers who have been in Egypt know is
excepting passible, and frequently seen. " For behold I will

the side of the box, he leaped nearly the distance of three feee,
and fastened between the man's fore finger and thumb, so as to
bring the blood. The fellow showed no signs of either pain or
fear : and we kept him with us full four hours, without applying
any sort of remedy, or his seeming inclined to do so.

" To make myself assured that the animal was in its perfect
state, I made the man hold him by the neck, so as to force him to
open his mouth, and lacerate the thigh of a pelican, a bird 1 had
tamed* as big as a swan. The bird died in about 13 minutes,
though it was apparently affected in 50 seconds ; and we cannot
think this was a fair trial, because a very few minutes before it
bad bit and so discharged part of its virus, and it was made to
feratch the pelican by force, without any irritation or action of
its mwn.

M The cerastes inhabits the greatest part of the eastern conti-
nent especially the desert sandy parts of it. It abounds in S y-
*ia, in the three Arabias, and in Africa. 1 never saw so many of
them as in the Cyrenaicum, where the jerboa is frequent in pro-
portion. He is a great lover of heat; for though the sun was
binning hot all day, when we made a fire at night, by digging a
bole, and burning wood to charcoal in it, for dressing our victuals,
it was seldom we had fewer than half a dozen of these vipers,
who burnt themselves to death by approaching the embers.

Galen, speaking of the aspic in the great city of Alexandria,
says, I have seen how speedily they, the aspics occasioned death.
Whenever any person is condemned to die, whom they wish to
end quickly and without torment, they put the viper to his
breast, and suffering him there to creep a little, the man is pre-
sently killed. Pausanias speaks of pa' ticular serpents that were
to be found in Arabia among the balsam-trees, several of which
I procured both alive and dead, when I brought the tree from
Beder Hnnein ; but they were still the same species of serpent,
only some from sex, and some from want of age, had not the
horns, though in every other respect they could not be mistaken.
Ibn Sma, called by Europeans Avicenna, has described this ani-
mal very exactly ; he says it is frequent in Shem, that is the
country about aud south of Damascus, and also in Egypt, and
be makes a very good observation on their manners ; that they
do not go or walk straight, but move by contracting themselves.

41 The general size of the cerastes, from the extremity of its
snout to the end of its tail, is from 13 to 14 inches. Its head
is triangular, very flat, but higher near where it joins the neck
than toward the nose.

" The cerastes has sixteen small immoveable teeth, and in the
upper jaw two canine teeth, hollow, crooked inward, and of a
MVHerkably She polish, white in colour, inclining to bluish.

Nature mud Providence. JJ

Near one'fourth of the bottom is strongly fixed in the upper jaw,
and folds back like a clasp knife, the point inclining inward ;
and the greatest part of the tooth is covered with a green soft
membrane, not drawn tight, but, as it were wrinkled over it.
Immediately above this is a slit along the back of the tooth,
which ends nearly in the middle of it, where the tooth curves in-
wardly. From this aperture, I apprehend, that it sheds its poison,
not from the point, where, with the best glasses, I never could
perceive an aperture, so that the tooth is not a tube, but hollow
only halfway ; the point being formaking the incision, and by its
pressure occasioning the venom in the bag at the bottom of the
fang to rise in the tooth, and spill itself through the slit into the
wound.

" The animal is supposed to eat but seldom, or only when it is
with young.

" The poison is very copious for so small a creature ; it is ful-
ly aslarge as a drop of laudanum, dropped from a phial by a care-
fa! hand. Viewed through a glass, it appears not perfectly trans-
parent or pellucid. I should imagine it has other reservoirs
than the bag under the tooth ; for I compelled it to scratch eigh-
teen pigeons upon the thigh as quick as possible, and they all
died nearly in the same interval of time ; but I confess the dan-
ger attending the dissection of the head of this creature, made me
so cautious, that any observation I should make upon these parts
would be less to be depended on.

" People have doubted whether or not this yellow liquor is the
poison J and the reason has been, that animals who tasted it did
not die, as when bitten ; but this reason does not hold in modern
physics. The viper, deprived of his canine teeth, an operation
very easily performed, bites without any fatal consequent with
the others.

" Of the incantation of serpents, there is no doubt of its reality.
The Scriptures are full of it. All that have been in Egypt have
seen as many different instances as t"iey chose. Some have
doubted that it was a trick, and that the animals so handled had
been trained, and then disarmed of their power of hurting ; and,
fond of the discovery, they have rested themselves upon it, with-
out experiment, in the face of all antiquity. But I will not hesi-
tate to aver, that I have seen at Cario, and this may be seen dai-
ly without trouble or expense, a man who came from above the
catacombs, where the pits of the mummy birds are kepi, who has
taken a cerastes with'his naked hand from a number of others lying
at the bottom of the tub, has put it upon his bare head, covered
it with the common red cap he wears, then taken it out, put
it in his breast, and tied it about his neck like a necklace ; after
which h has been applied to a hen, and bit it, which has died in

a few minutes \ and to complete the experiment, the man has
taken it by the neck, and beginning at its tail, lias eaten it as one
would do a carrot or a stalk of celery, without any seeming re-
pugnance.

" I can myself vouch, that all the black people in the king-
dom of Sennaar, whether Funge or Nuba, are perfectly armed
against the bite of either scorpion orviper. They take the cerastes
in their hands at all times, put them in their bosoms, and throw
them to one another,«s children do apples or balls, without having
irritated them by this usage so much as to bite. The Arabs have
not this secret naturally ; but from their infancy they acquire
an exemption from the mortal consequence attending the bite
of these animals, by chewing a certain root, and washing them-
selves with an infusion of certain plants in water.

" I constantly observed, that however lively the viper was be-
fore, upon being seized by any of these barbarians, be seemed
as if taken with sickness and feebleness, frequently shut his eyes,
and never turned his mouth towards the arm of the person that
held him. I asked Kitton how they came to be exempted from
this mischief? He said, they were born so, and so said the grave
and respectable men among them. Many of the lighter and low-
er sort talked of enchantments by words and by writing : but
they all knew how to prepare any person by medicines, which
were decoctions of herbs and roots.

" I have seen many thus armed for a season do pretty much the
same fetes as those that possessed the exemption naturally ; the
drugs were given me, and I several times armed myself, as I
thought, resolved to try the experiment, but my heart always
failed me when I came to trial." So far Mr. Bruce.

The cerastes is well known under the name of" horned viper,"
it is effectually distinguished, by two small horns, one over each
rye. It was adopted as a hieroglyphic among the Egyptians,
mid appears not only on oblisks, columns of temples, statues,
walls of palaces, but on mummies also. Notwithstanding which,
the complete history of this creature is wanting.

The horns of the cerastes are placed immediately over the
eyes ; each of them is planted, as it were, among the small scales
which form the superior part of the orbit ; its root is surrounded
by scales, smaller than those of the back ; and it is of apyramidi-
<cal form, each face having a grove running up it. In general ap-
pearance, it resembles a grain of barley. The general colour of
the back is yellowish, heightened by irregular blotches of a deep-
er colour, which represents small bands, crossing it. The under
part of the body is lighter. The serpent is about two feet long,
says count de la Cepede. This serpent supports hunger and thirst
longer than most others; but is so ravenous, that he throws him-

Aatitve and Providence.

23

self with avidity on the small birds, and other animals on which he
feeds; and as, according to Belon, his skin is capable of the great-
est distension, even to double its natural size, it is not surprising
that be swallows so great a quantity of food as to render digestion
extremely difficult ; so that he falls into a kind of lethargic slum-
ber, during which he is easily killed.

Most authors of antiquity, and of the middle ages, thought that
tlds was one of those serpents which could, with the greatest ease,
turn themselves all manner of ways ; and they report, that in-
stead of advancing in a streight line, be always took more or less
of a circuitous course to attain his object. But, whatever be the
address or swiftness of his motions,- be escapes with difficulty
from those eagles, or rather, perhaps, vultures, which stoop at
him with exceeding rapidity : and which, for their services in
ridding the country of these venomous reptiles, were considered
as sacred by the Egyptians. Nevertheless, these serpents have
always been considered as extremely cunning, both in escaping
their enemies, and in seizing their prey : they have even been
named iniidiovs ; and it is reported of them, that they hide them-
selves in holes adjacent to the highways, and in the ruts of wheels,
in order more suddenly to spring upon passengers.

Belon says, that the young of the cerastes burst their eggs in
the womb of the parent; but Gesner reports, that a noble Vene-
tian kept a female cerastes, three feet in length, during some
time, which laid four or five eggs, the size of pigeons' eggs : per-
haps both ways may take place.

It is thought the cerastes was consecrated by the ancient Egyp-
tains; for Herodotus describes serpents which answer to the
character of this reptile, as being kept in a temple.

So far is abstracted from the successor to Bnffon. I would
only add on this last article, that as we have seen the naja wor-
shipped in India, so the cerastes might be worshipped in Egypt,
as being one of the symbols of that deity who more immediately
presides over death. Vid Fragment, No. 495.

It is proper now to endeavour to apply this information to a
specific object. It will be seen in the Expository Index, that
] have thought shephiphoo.i, to which the tribe of Dan is com-
pared, Gen. :Jix. might be the cerastes : it is so rendered by the
Vulgate. I shall, however, abstract the remarks of Michael is.
Quest. Ixii. because they manifest the importance of that infor-
mation on Scripture natural history, which it is our present en-
deavour to promote.

The Arabs name this serpent siff, [siphon or suphon,] and that
seems not very distant from the Hebrew root of the word sifi-
/ooa, or shephiphon. This serpent, or some other, but this most
probably, is Called by the Orientals, "tto Utrin mhuAi fo<

24

Tte Wonders of

so both the lxx and Samaritan, who are not in the habit of copy-'
ing each other, render the text in Genesis : and this appellation
well agrees with the manner of the cerastes. Pliny says, that
"the cerastes hides its whole body in the sand, leaving only its
horns exposed; which attracts birds, who suppose them to be
grains of barley, till they are undeceived, too late, by the dart-
ing of the serpent upon them." TheChaldeeof Jonathan trans-
lates H heads of serpents" which seems to allude to such a story;
and which may be an appellation of the cerastes. Ephraim the
Syrian says, there is a kind of serpents, whose heads only are
seen above the ground. Prosper Alpinus thinks, that only the
male has horns. Bocart thinks that the hemorrhois also has
horns. On this article, we refer to Mr. Bruce, who mentions a
cerastes without horns, which we may conjecture to be the he*
morrhois.

As to the effects of the venom of the cerastes, the ancients say,
Nicander for instance, that its bite causes but little pain; the
wound hardens; blisters, filled with a dark matter, rise around it;
the upper part of the feet, then the knees, experience a disagreea-
ble weariness : some add, that violent vertigoes succeed, arid a
tension in the private parts. Some say, that death follows on
the third day; but Nicander says on the ninth.

Michaeiis finds a difficulty in the mode of attack of the Hebrew
shephiphon on " the heels of a horse, so as to make his rider fall
backward." He supposes that the phrase strictly means, that
the horse throws the rider off behind him: "and" says he, "I
should be curious to know how that is accomplished. Commen-
tators commonly say. because the horse rears up when wounded
in the heel. Perhaps they are bad horsemen. In such circum-
stances a horse would kick, rather than rear up on his hind legs :
and the rider would be thrown over his neck, rather than over
the crupper." I feel the force of this observation, and cannot
but agree to it. I would therefore doubt, whether the word ren-
dered backward should be rcstrictively so taken ; for instance,
suppose the cerastes has bit the horse in the left hind leg, the
horse kicking out that leg, and his rider perceiving the cause,
would, to avoid the serpent, throw himself on the further side
of the horse from where the serpent was. I say, he would throw
himself off, by the opposite side of the horse; which I think suffi-
ciently meets the meaning of the Hebrew word : and it makes no
difference on this notion, whether the front leg or the hind leg be
bitten ; whether the right log, or the left teg : the rider would
certainly avoid that side of the horse where the serpent was, and
would throw himself off on that side where he was not# Ob-
serve, that the margin instead of ipcl, reads nepel : which, that it

Nature and Providence.

may signify a person's causing himself to fall, vide Fragment,
No. 208.

In the Expository Index, I have said that Dan probably re-
sembled the cerastes, in feeding full, and then sinking into tor-
pidity, in consequence of such repletion. I think the induce- *
ments held out by the spies of the Danites, Judg. xvii. 9, 10. are
precisely adapted to such a people ; and we are told in the end
of the chapter, that they set up the graven image, had their
priests, and here they remained, "till the day of the captivity
of the land," *.. e. distant from interference with the affairs of
• Israel, and detenninately settled apart from their brethren. See
verses 7, 28.

It remains that we pay some attention to the opinion of Mr.
Brace, that the cerastes is, under other names, the serpent meant
by the banns ophites, ammodytes, torrida dipsas, and prester : for
if this be true, we must refrain from appropriating these appella-
tions to other serpents mentioned in Scripture. Mr. Bruce,
however, says, that the serpents he found among the balsam-
trees, were the cerastes ; only some from sex, and some from
want of age, had not the horns. We must pause here. Has the
female cerastes no horns ? This is contradicted by the experience
of that noble Venetian, who saw a horned serpent lay eggs, con-
sequently this was a female. Does the cerastes acquire horns
by age ? I should doubt it ; and therefore presume to think, that
Mr. Bruce has here, contrary to his design, given evidence of
serpents resembling the cerastes, but of a different kind, as ap-
pears by their wanting the horns. I would therefore, apply to
the cerastes the history related above by Mr. Bruce and others,
but would refer to other species those which have not this con-
formation : such may be the ammodytes, the hemorrhois, the
dipsas, be.

I take this opportunity of adding, that the ammodytes is cer-
tainly allied to the cerastes, by its venom, by its habit of hiding
itself in the sand, from whence its name is derived, the colour of
its back being much of a sand colour, varied by large black spots
running down it. It resembles the cerastes, too, by having, at
the end of its snout, a little eminence, a sort of horn, about a
quarter of an inch in height, moveable backward, from whence it
has been called in many countries the " horned asp" or aspic*
Its bite kills in three hours time ; though some persons bitten
may survive several days.

To this class may also be referred the horned serpents of the
Gold Coast, mentioned by Bosman, who saw the skin of one five
feet long; which apparently is the species described by Dr-
Shaw, Naturalist's .discell. plate 94. Bosman says, these ser-
pents, when filled with prey, though trodden on, will hardly

4

26

TM tr&ers of

awake. As this s>rpent is found in western Africa, may it uol be
extant in eaitem Africa also ? The following is Dr. Shaw's de-
scription.

THE HORN-NOSED SNAKE.

Olive brown snake, freckled with blackish, with a row of pale
dorsal spots surrounded by black, and a flexuoua pale fascia on
the sides.

If at first glance of most of the serpent tribe, an involuntary
sort of horror and alarm is so often felt by those who are unused
fo the examination of these animals, how much greater dread
must the unexpected view of the species here exhibited be sup-
posed to inflict? when to the general form of the creature is su-
peradded the peculiar fierceness and forbidding torvity with
which rifcture has marked its countenance : distinguished by the
very uncommon appearance of two large and sharp pointed horns,
.situated, not as in the cerastes above the eyes, but on the top of
the nose, or anterior part of the upper jaw. They stand nearly
upright, but iucline slightly backward, and a little outward on
each side, and are of a substance not absolutely horny, but in
some degree flexible. Their shape is somewhat triangular or
three-sided. They are about half an inch in length, and at the
fore part of the base of each stand an upright strong scale, of
nearly the same shape with the horn itself, and thus giving the ap-
pearance of a much smaller pair of horns. The mouth is furnish-
ed with extremely large aud long fangs or tubular teeth, situated
as in other poisonous serpents, and capable of inflicting the most
severe wounds : two of these fangs appear on each side of the
mouth, of which the hinder pair are smaller than the others. The
length of this animal is about thirty-five inches. Its colour is a
yellowish olive brown, very thickly sprinkled all over with minute
blackish specks. Along the whole length of the back is placed,
at considerable distances, a series of yellowish brown spots or
marks, each of which is imbedded in a patch of black ; and on
each side the body, from head to tail, runs an acutely tlexuous or
gigzag line or narrow baud, of o<iire colour. This band is
bounded beneath by a much deeper or blacker shade than on the
r«st of the body. The belly is of a dull ochre colour, or cinere-
ous yellow, freckled with spots and markings of blackish. Be-
sides these there is a number of black spots of different sizes here
and there dispersed over the whole snake. The tail is somewhat
thin and short in proportion to the body. The scales of this
snake ajre harsh and stiff, and are very strongly carinated. The
head is covered with small scales, ami is on its upper part mark-
ed by a very large longitudinal patch.of brown, running out into

Nature afid Provideiyx.

pointed processes at the sides, and bounded by a space of dull
lead colour or cinereous. The shape of the head is broad and flat-
tened; the cheeks are varied with blackish and yellow. This
snake is supposed to be a native of the interior parts of Africa,
and was obtained from the master of a Guinea vessel by the Rev.
Edward Jenkins of Charleston, South Carolina, by whom it was
lately presented to the British Museum.

THE ANACONDA OF THE EAST-INDIES.

*

An account of this dreadful serpent is taken from the letter of a
gentleman who resided in the Indies many years where he saw it.

Sib, *
I HAVE an account to give you here, which must startle you;

bat be assured, sir, I shall aggravate no circumstance, but merely

tell you what myself and more than a hundred others saw, for

two whole days together.
Some years since, the commands of my directors carrying me

toCeylon, to transact an affair of no little consequence, 1 had an

rrtment prepared me on the skirts of tlie principal town facing
woods : at some distance from my window there stood some
large palm-trees, that afforded me a delightful prospect.

One morning, as I was looking at these trees, I saw, as I
thought, a large arm of one of them in strange commotions, bend-
ing and twisting about, though there was no wind, and often
striking one end to the earth and raising it again, and losing it
among the leaves. I was gazing at this with great amazement,
when a Ceyloneze coming in, I begged him to look and wonder
with me : he looked, sir, and he was much more amazed and ter-
rified than I ; in short a paleness overspread his face, and lie
seemed almost sinking to the earth with terror.

He begged me to bar up all my doors ; then told me, that what
appeared an arm of a tree to me, was in reality a serpent of that
monstrous size divertiug itself there with its various commotions,
and now and then darting down to the earth for its prey.

I soon found out the truth of what he told ine ; and looking
more nearly, saw it seize a small animal before me and take it
up into the tree.

Inquiring after this miracle, the Ce v lonexe told me that the won-
der was only that (he creature w as so near us, for that it was a
serpent but too well known on the island ; but that it usually kept
in the inland parts of the woods, where it often dropped down
from the covert of a large tree, and devoured a traveller aliVfcw

28

The tVondeis of

A relation so strange as this could never have gaiaed credit
with me, but that 1 actually saw the creature, from its site, capa-
ble of doing more than was related.

It continued diverting itself till we assembled a body of twelve
of us, to go on horseback well armed to destroy him.

We rode near the place,. but not to expose ourselves to danger
we rode behind a thicket from whence we might unseen level
our fire-arms at him ; but when we arrived there, we found him
so much larger than we had conceived, that we wished ourselves
at borne again ; and for along time we dared not fire.

We bad now time to observe the creature ; and believe me,"
sir, all the descriptions of monsters of this kind hitherto given
are trifles to what we saw in him. The Ceylonexe all declared
he was mudti larger than any they had ever seen, and such a
jfliixture^f horror and beauty together, no eye but that which
saw it can conceive.

The creature was more than as thick as a slender man's waist,
yet seemed far from fat, and very long in proportion to his thick-
ness ; often hanging himself by the tail from the highest boughs
of the tree, and reaching the ground with his head. He was sur-

Sisingly nimble, and was now diverting himself in the heat of the
y with a thousand gambols round the branches of the tree, and
would sometimes come down and twist his tail round the bottom
of the trunk, throwing himself to his whole length all around it.
In the midst of one of these gambols, we were surprised to see
him, all of a sudden, spring up into the tree; but the cause soon
appeared an animal of the fox kind, which the serpent had seen,
coming towards him, he took this way to be prepared for him.
He darted down upon the unweary creature, and sucked him in in
a few minutes, then licked his chops with a broad double tongue
of a blackish colour, and laid himself at his ease at length upon
the ground ; but with his tail still twisted round the tree.

In this posture I had an opportunity with horror, yet with ad-
miration, to behold him. .He was covered with scales like a cro-
codile ; his head was green, with a large black spot in the mid-
dle, and yellow streaks round the jaws ; he had a yellow circle
of a gold colour round his neck, and behind that another great
spot of black. His sides were of an olive colour, and his back
more beautiful than can be described : his head was very flat,
but extremely broad, and his eyes monstrously large and very
bright and terrible. — When he moved about in the sun he was, if
possible, a thousand times more beautiful than before, the colour
according to the several shades of light presenting a vast variety
of colours, hi many places looking like our changable colours
in silk.

JVatttre and Pro vide act .

Wc all aimed our pieces at him as he lay, and fired at his head
all at once ; but whether he accidentally moved just at that time,
or our fears made us take bad aim, we either missed him or never
hurt him, for he took no notice of it: and after a council of war,
we all agreed to make no farther attempt upon him at that time,
but to go home, and return with a stronger party tY\e next day.

The Cyloneze seemed to know the creature well ; they call-
ed it Anaconda, and talked of eating its flesh when they caught
it, as they had no small hopes of this : for, they say, when one of
these creatures chooses a tree for its dwelling, he seldom quits it
for a long time.

I detained my company to dine with me, and the afternoon
was spent in relating the amazing things which one or other of
the company bad seen of this sort of monster ; in short, they
told abundance of things that far outwent my credulity j but what
we saw the next day, as much exceeded all they had told me, as
what they told seemed to exceed truth and probability.

It seems the custom of this creature to lay wait for its prey is,
by hiding in the boughs of large trees, from whence it unexpect-
edly drops upon the creature, which is seized before it sees an
enemy ; but the instance we saw of this, I must relate to you.

The next morning, sir, we assemble^ to the number of 100,
at the same thicket, where we had the pleasure (if 1 dare call it
so,) to find our enemy at his old post. He seemed very fierce and
very hungry this morning, and we soon saw the effects of it.

There are great plenty of tygers in that country; one of these,
of a monstrous size, not less than a common heifer, as he went
-along, came at length under the serpent's tree ; in a moment we
heard a dreadful rustling in the tree, and swift as thought the
serpent dropped upon him, seizing him across the back, a little
below the shoulders, with his horrible mouth, and taking in a
piece of the back bigger than a man's head ; the creature roared
with agony, and to our unspeakable terror, was running with his
enemy toward us ; his course however was soon .stopped, for the
nimble adversary winding his body three or four times round the
body of his prey, girded him so violently, that he soon fell down
in an agony. The moment the serpent had fixed his folds, he
let go the back of the creature, and raising and twisting round
the head, opened its horrid mouth to its full extent, and seized
the whole face of the tyger in it, biting and grinding him in a
most horrible manner, and at once choaking him and tearing
him to pieces.

The tyger reared up again on this, and words are too poor to
paint his seeming agony ; he writhed and tossed about, but all in
vain, the enemy wherever he went was with him. and his hollow

'30

The Wonder* 6}

roaring from within the devourcr's mouth was dreadful beyond
expression.

I was for firing on tlje creature in (his state, but they all de-
clared against it j they told me, they knew his customs so well,
that they were now very sure of him without any trouble or
hazard, if they left him alone ; but if they disturbed him in this
condition, he would bo so outrageous, that several of our lives
would assuredly pay the forfeit. They seemed to know so well
what they were about, that I readily acquiesced.

Several of us spent the whole day in observing this sight ; and
surely the agonies of the tyger were beyond all that can be con-
ceived, and his death more horrid than a thousand other deaths
with all their tortures put together.

The tyger was a strong and fierce creature, and though unable
tO hurt or get rid of its cruel enemy, yet gave him a world of
trouble ; a hundred times would he rear up and run a little way,
but soon fell down again, partly oppressed by the weight, and
partly by the writhed twists of the serpent round his body ; but
though he fell, he was far from being conquered.

After some hours he seemed much spent, and lay as if dead ;
and the serpent, who had many times girted himself violently
round him, attempting to break his bones, but in vain, now let
go his hold, and twisting his tail round the tyger's neck, whowa*
now in no condition either to resist or escape, he made towards
the tree, dragging with some pains the tyger after him.

Nature, it seems, informs this animal, that though it can con-
quer such large creatures as these, it can by no means devour
them as they are, since their bodies are too thick for his swallow,
and he must therefore break their bones, and reduce them to a
soft mass, before he can manage them. This he usually does,
as we saw him attempt it on the tyger, by getting his body very
firmly and hard round them, by this means crushing them to
pieces ; but when this method will not do, he has recourse to the
tree, as we now had an opportunity to observe. He dragged the
tyger by degrees after him to the tree, and the creature being
almost dead, unable to stand, he seized him lightly a secoud time
by the back, and sethim on his legs against the trunk of the tree,
• then immediately winding his body round both the tyger and the
tree several times, he girted both Svith all his violence, till the
ribs and other bones began to give way, and by repeated attempts
of this kind, he broke all the ribs and legs in four or five different
places ; this took up several hours, and the poor creature all this
while was living, and at every crack of the bones gave a howl,
though not loud, yet piteous enough to pierce the cruellest heart,
and make even man forget hi? natural hatred to its species, and
pity its misery.

Nature and PrQcidence.

31

Alter the legs and rib?, the snnke attacked the skull in the
same manner, but this proved so difficult a task, that the monster,
tired with fatigue, and seeing his prey inno condition of escaping,
left him for the night at the foot of the tree, and retired into it
himself to rest ; upon which we went home, and I must assure you,
I could not sleep for the poor tyger, who was naturally so strong,
that we left him still alive, though mangled in this miserable
manner.

In the morning I returned with several others to the thicket ;
but as we rode up, we saw a strange change ; the body of the ty-
ger, which we now saw no longer to be known as such, but look-
ed like a red lump of shapeless matter, was dragged to some dis-
tance from the tree, and shone all over as covered with glue or
jelly ; when we arrived, we saw plainly the meaning of this, the
snake fras yet busied about it. He had laid his legs one by one
close to the body, and was now placing the head straight before
and licking the body (which had no remaining shape of one) and
covering it with its slaver, which was what gave it that shiny look,
coating it over like a jelly, and rendering it (it for swallowing;
and having prepared it to his mind, seized the head, and began
to suck that, and afterwards the body into his throat. This was
a work of so much time, that I left him struggling at the shoulder*,
when I went home to dinner, and by the account of those that
stayed to watch him, it was night before he got it all in.

Next morning we assembled for the last time, and the very
women and children followed us, assuring us, that as the prey
was gorged, there was no danger. I could by no means conceive
the meaning of this, till I came to the place, but then I found it
very true; the serpent had so loaded his belly, that he could
neither fight, nor run away.

He attempted on our approach to climb the tree, but in vain,
and was soon knocked on the head with staves.

We measured him, and his length was thirty-three feet four in-
ches. He was soon cut up, and I assure you, sir, afforded a flesh
whiter than veal, and, as they said that ate of it, finer tasted than
any flesh whatever.

I hope the curious nature of this account will plead pardon for
its length; and am with great wishes of success to yon, worthy
sir, your very humble servent.

Those blooming [ndian wilds t\w Anaconda'? Lom<»,
Where tv^ers now! and drendfu! rerrrnf* ruam ;
Where* terrors crowl Jthfrgiuuml. «r'd wau h to se:/v.
And snaky hidras plunging from the trees;
Fn every blooming thuds some lurid* n 'ieath retid^s,
And from the ciTern drear, foinc monster £lid*«.
Not «o America, thy li< a!tli«*ul wood* and glen?,
i.i) «iirhmir.»f».-:'''' n *mv hi!!« nor n!nm*

32

The Wonder* of

MONSTROUS SERPENT OF THE OCEAN.

Jin account of the Halcydrus Ponioppidani, or enormous Sea Ser-
pent. By Mr. George Dermot.

[Meth. Mag. 3rd vol.]

<lThe works of the Lord are great, sought out of all tlicm
that have pleasure therein," sahh the prophet of the most High ;
and as the most insignificant particle of organized matter dis-
plays the glorious wisdom and power of its Author, far beyond
the brightest orb of universal light, the more perfectly we con-
sider the animated creation, the more we shall adore the Great
First Cause of all being and vitality ; for matter only exists for
the sake of intelligent beings, and we should "search it out" in
the spirit of the Psalmist.

Useful information in the great volume of nature is still want-
ing, after all our scientific researches; and every fresh acquisi-
tion to our stock of facts in natural history, and other branches
of useful science, is to be valued.

The current accounts of a monstrous sea-snake, repeatedly
seen by many sea-faring persons on the North American coast,
has disposed me to present you with a variety of memorandums
on the same curious subject. These were collected some years
ago, from the only documents, I believe, that the world has yet
been favoured with.

This animal has hitherto been supposed to be peculiar to the
Norwegian and Greenland seas ; but as it is now proved that it
may be met with in other latitudes also, we may hope, that in this
age of improvements, we shall not long be without a specimen of
the animal itself, by some providential or enterprising achieve-
ment, to enrich the department of Natural History.

At a meeting of the Wernerian Natural History Society, in the
year 1808, Mr. P. Neill read an account of a great Sea Snake,
lately cast ashore in Orkney, This curious animal, it appears,
was stranded in Rotsholm Bay, in the island of Stronsa, North
Scotland. Malcom Laing, Esq. M. P. being in Orkney at this
time communicated the circumstance to his brother Gilbert Laing,
Esq. Advocate at Edinburgh. Through this authentic chan-
nel Mr. Neill received his information.

The body measured fifty-five feet in length, and the circumfer-
ence of the thickest part might be equal to the girth of an Orkney
poney. The head was not larger than that of a seal, and was
furnished with two blow-holes, such as whales have. From the
Hack, a number of filaments (resembling in texture the fishing tao

JVofttre and PrwHtnct.

33

kk, known by the name of the silk-worm-gut) hung down like a
mane. On each side of the body were three large fins shaped
like paws and jointed. The body was knocked in pieces by a
tempest, but the fragments have been collected by Mr. Laing,
and are to be transmitted to the Museum at Edinburgh. Mr.
Neill concluded with remarking, that no doubt could be enter-
tained that this was the very animal described by Ramus, Egede
and Pontoppedam, but which scientific and Systematic natural-
ists had been induced hitherto to reject as spurious and ideal.
Such was the account then laid before the public, and it was ad-
ded, "We confidently hope that the particulars of this event will
appear at full in the transactions of the Wernerian Society, when
published." In the mean time, we add that another letter has
appeared in print, in confirmation of the above account, and con-
taining some additional information, viz. that as its tail seemed to
have been broken by dashing against the rocks, it is calculated to
have been sixty feet in the whole. The first pair of fts fins were
five feet and a half long, with a joint at the distance of four feet
from the body. As the tempest had beat the carcase to pieces
before men and ropes couldVbo collected, only a fragment, about
five feet of the back bone, and a whole paw are preserved.

y hese accounts are completely in conformity to what had been
already communicated by writers on Natural History; and they
happily vindicate the veracity of such writers, who because they
have related instances of rare occurrence, have been treated as
persons incapable of just discernment, if not as immoral men, at-
tempting to impose on their readers fiction instead of truth. What
was then published on this subject is supported by the following
testimony, which was inserted in a periodical publication of great
celebrity, a short time afterwards, and that in consequence of
diligent inquiry being made.

" The particular's recorded concerning the great Sea Serpent
are perfectly correct, and I beg leave to complete the account
by the addition of the following particulars : — The specimen was
examined by Mr. George Shearer, tenant of Rothsholm, who ac-
tually measured the parts and found the length of them fifty-five
feet, and judged it might be, when perfect, sixty feet. The ta-
pering towards the tail was gradual, the distance in length be-
tween the paws was about twelve feet; the paws appeared
well adapted to the purpose of enabling the creature to fix it-
self strongly to the rocks ; the mane from the head down the
hack was silver-coloured eighteen inches in length, and, when
dry> of the appearance of cat-gut ; the spout-holes Were in the
back part of the head, or in the neck" ; the vertebrae of the
back-bone were numerous. Some of these have now been re-
ceived*i Edinburgh, and laid before the Wernerian Society.

5

34

The Wonders

T&eir structure is extremely curious and uncommon, evidently
intended to accommodate a mode of life, of which we have lit-
tle knowledge. It is understood that the head is saved, as well
as one of the fins or paws. The whole has been presented to the
Museum of the University of Edinburgh, by Gilbert Meason,
Bsq. on whose estate it came ashore. The Literati of Edin-
burgh have named it Halsydms Pontoppidani, (from the Greek
fob, sea, and hydros, water-snake.) This creature has been
the subject of poetical description. Mr. Scott's " Minstrelsy
of the Scottish border," vol. iii. contains the following refer-
ence to it in the Mermaid, a poem by J. Leyden.

" Stan, OShun, the gvlph profound,

Where Corriunckin's surge* roar, ■

If Irani that anbottom'd deep,

With wrinkled form and writhed train,

O'er the verge of Scarbia's steep,

The'Ssa tnak* heaves his snowy mane,

Unwarp, anwind bit cosy coils,

Sea men sisters of the main !

And in the rnlph where ocean boils,

TV unwielding wallowing monster chain."

It is possible that the poet might have seen the creature alive,
which may account for the bold language he uses. — The. author-
ities referred to certainly place the existence of this animal t>e~
yond all doubt. In Egede's journal of the Greenland mission,
we find, that on the 6th day of July, 1734, a large and frightful
sea monster raised itself so high out of the water, that its head
reached above the main-top-mast of the ship ; that it had a long
sharp snout, broad paws, and spouted water li ke a whale ; that the
body seemed to be covered with scales, the skin was uneven and
wrinkled, and the lower part was formed like a snake. It plung-
ed itself backwards in the water, and then raised its tail above the
surface a whole ship's length from the head. Its skin is smooth,
Without wrinkle, of a dark-brown colour, speckled or variegated
like tortoise-shell, and it is said to shed it annually, as others of
the serpent tribe. That its sense of smelling is very acute, the
fishermen conjecture from the circumstance of its avoiding the
scent of castor y a quantity of which they, therefore, are said to
provide themselves with, when they go out to fish in the summer ;
and when they meet with the sea-snake they throw a small por-
tion of it overboard. This huge animal is said to have sunk, or
over-turned, many large vessels, and even to have raised itself
up and snatched men out of boats. The fishermen practise dif-
ferent methods of avoiding this calamity, besides the experiment
of castor : they sometimes row full against those volumes of it
t&at appear above water, or throw a light piece of wood upon it ;
fli that case it dives immediately. Someti mes they tack about in

' S ^ *

Nature and Providence. 3A

order Co gain tbe sun, whos^ beams the eyes of this creature can-
not bear ; but if they are near the shore they row into crtelu
where they cannot be pursued. The excrement, or spawa, of
this animal which floats upon the surface, like a viscid slime, is
so corrosive, that if it should touch the hands of tbe fishermett
they will be instantly blistered and inflamed. Tbe particulars
related of this animal would be incredible, were they not attes-
ted upon oath, and confirmed by many witnesses.

Egede informs us, that it had been seen by many hundreds of
persons, mariners, fishermen, and otheis. In the year 1746,
Captain Lawrence de Ferry, of Bergen, shot at a sea-snake,
which immediately disappeared ; and when the boat was rowed
near the place, tbe water appeared tinged with blood. The head
of this animal, which it held at least two feet above the surface of
the water, was of a greyish colour, and resembled the head of a
horse. The mouth was very large and black, the eyes were of
tbe same colour, and a long white mane bung down from its neck,
and floated on the sea. Beside} the head, they saw seven or
eight coils of this snake, about the distance of a fathom one from
another.

In 1756, it is upon record, that another was shot at and wound-
ed also, which is described as being of an enormous length from
one hundred to two hundred yards, by the different beholders.

This Sea Serpent does not seem to be a creature prepared for
carnage and devastation, and whether it may possess venom of
any kind, probably was not examined by those who discovered it.
We rather think it to be slow, languid, and quiet, like the whale,
which it also resembles in its power of ejecting waters through
its blow-holes.

THE SCORPION.

[From Calmet.']

Tbkre seems to be no doubt that the Hebrew word okrab.
means a scorpion. The figure of this insect is submitted to in-
spection above ;* but the history of it should be known, in order
to understand justly the force of passages where it is mentioned.
The reader will observe particularly its articulated tail, at the
en i of which is its sting ; and its pincers, or claws, in front,
like those of a lobster. " In the tropical climates it is a foot bi
length. No animal in the creation seems endued with such art

• Tlw mi in the original, from which tb t was extracted, a p^ate of the tcorpiom
to whitti ihb remark aflame

80

T*e Wonders of

irrucible nature. When taken, tfoey exert their utmost rage
against the glass which contains them : will attempt to sting a
stick, when put near them ; will sting animals confined with
tbem, without provocation ; are the cruellest enemies to each
other. Maupertius put 100 together in the same glass ; instant-
ly they vented their rage in mutual destruction, universal car-
nage ! in a few days only 14 remained, which had killed and de-
voured all the others. It is even asserted, that when in extremi-
ty or dispair, the scorpion will destroy itself. It is said to be a
common experiment in Gibraltar, [and Goldsmith says he had
been assured of such a fact, by many eye witnesses, ] to take a
scorpion newly caught, and surrounding him with burning char-
coal, when he perceives the impossibility of escaping, he stings
himself on the back of the head, and instantly expires." Sure-
ly Moses very properly mentions scorpions among the dangers of
the wilderness ? Deut. viii. 1 5. And what shall we think of the
hazardous situation of Ezekiel, who is said to dwell among scor-
pions ; ehap. ii G. people as irrascible as this venomous insect.
Could a fitter contrast be selected by our Lord, " will a father
give a scorpion to his child instead of an egg ?" Luke xi. 12.

But the passage most descriptive of the scorpion is Rev. ix. 3.
4. 5. 10. which mentions, locusts, having power as scorpions;
not to kill men, but to torment them, during five months, with ,
the torment of a scorpion, when he strikes a man : they had
tails like scorpions, and stings ia their tails. Contrary to the
nature of locusts, they were* not to destroy vegetation, but to
infest men.

These particulars deserve our notice : 1st, These scorpions
have the power of flying. The ancients certainly ranged an
insect of some kind, as a flying scorpion. Lucian says, in the
Dipsades, " There are two kinds of scorpions, one residing on
the ground, large, having claws, and many articulations at the
tail : the other flies in the air, and has inferior tangs, like locusts,
beetles, and bats." Strabo, lib. xvi. reports " that in Maurita-
nia, are round many flying scorpions ; others without wings."
Scheuser mentions other testimonies. It is probable, therefore,
that the ancients called that a "flying scorpion," which the
moderns know under another name. 2dly, They did not hill
men but only torment them. It is n6t every scorpion whose
sting is fatal. In Europe they are seldom deadly, though al-
ways dangerous. " In some of the towns in Italy, and in the
south of France, it is one of the greatest pests that torments man-
kind, yet its malignancy in Europe is trifling, compared to its
powers in Africa and the East." Maupertius caused a dog to be
stung ; it died : another dog did not die, though more severely
Stung, in appearance : and it seems to be generally true, thai

Nature a-ni Prottidtnce.

37

the slings of the old ones are the most dangerous, and during
the heat of summer : which agree with, 3dly, The Jive months
of the apocalypse, that this was known to the ancients we have
the evidence of Tertullian, who says, " The ordinary time of dan-
ger is during the heats ; the winds of south and southwest, excite
its Airy and Macrobius says, sat. lib. i. cap. 21. " The scor-
pion slumbers during winter ; but when winter is over, its sting
resumes its vigour, of which winter had not deprived it. 4thlyf
As to the torment of a scorpion when he strikes a man, Dioco~
rides thus describes it, lib. vii. cap. 7. " When the scorpion has
stung, the place becomes inflamed, and hardened ; it reddens
by tention, and is painful by intervals, being now chilly, now
burning. The pain soon rises high, and raqes, sometimes more,
sometimes less. A sweating succeeds, attended by a shivering,
and trembling; the extremities of the body become cold, the
groin swells ; the bowels expel their wkid, the hair stands on
end ; the members become pale, and the skin feels throughout .
it the sensation of a perpetual pricking as if by needles :" such
are the torments of a scorpion when he strikes a man ! 5thly,
As to the formation of the tail, and the sting at its point, the
reader is referred to the figure. It remains only to be observed,
that the ancients had remarked tiiis particularity. So Julian
Epig. on the heavenly signs.

Libra subit, caudaquc animal quoddirigit ictum

So speaks Hilasius :

Libraque iancg pari, et violent us acuminc catidae*

And to these we may add Eustbenius,

Momemtumque sequens, caudaquc timendas adnoca.

Upon the whole, we observe, that however metaphorical is
the description of this depredator, by the apocalyptic writer, yet
that the foundation of his description may readily be discovered,
in nature.

OF APPARITIONS.

Cf apparitions in dreams, and how they are or are not real ap-
paritions, with several curious relations.

There may be dreams without apparitions, as there may be
apparitions without dreams ; but apparition in dream may be
as really an apparition as if the person who saw it was awake :

The Wonders of

The difference may be here, that the apparition in a dream h
visible to the soul only, for the soul never sleeps ; and an appa-
rition to the eye-sight is visible in common perspective.

How is it then that we see in our dreams the very faces and
dress of the person we dream of; nay, hear their voices, and re-
ceive due impressions from what they say, and oftentimes speak
to them with our own voices articulately and audibly, although
we are fast asleep. What secret power of the imagination is
able to represent ihe image of any person to itself, if there was
not somfe appearance, something placed in the soul's view, by
a secret but invisible hand, and in an imperceptible manner ?
which something is, in all respects, and to all purposes, as com-
pletely an apparition, as if it was placed in open sight when the
person was really awake. — Deacon and lialker's Etiological
Disquisitions on Spirits. 4to. 1611.

The Scripture confirms this opinion by many expressions di-
rectly to the purpose, and particularly this of appearing, or ap-
parition in dream. Gen. xx. 3. " God came to Abimelech in
a dream ;" had it been said, that Abimelech dreamed that God
came to him, there might have been some exception to the
parallel > but God actually came to him ; and although Abime-
lech was asleep, and in a dream, it was not the less an appari-
tion, for God came to him, and spoke, and said to him : and in
the 4th verse, Abimelech spoke to the apparition. Whatever
the shape was, that the text floes not mention ; but Abimelech
knew whom he talked with too, that's evident, for the text men-
tions it fully : " And he said, Lord, wilt thou slay also a righteous
nation ?" And so he goes on, verse the fifth, to expostulate
and plead for himself and his people, " said he not unto me,
she is my sister ?" so that he knew he was speaking to the Lord.
The text is very remarkable ; it is plain that there was an appa-
rition, but the man was asleep, and in a dream.

Again, in the case of Laban pursuing Jacob, Gen. xxxi. 24.

God came to Laban the Syrian in a dream by night, and said
unto liim." Here again is an apparition, and a speaking appa-
rition too ; God came to him, and God spoke to him ; and La-
ban owns, not that he dreamed of God's appearing, but that God
really spoke to him, ver. 29. " The God of your father spake
to me yesternight, saying."

Certainly dreams in those days were another kind of thing
than they are now. God spoke to them, and they answered ;
and when they were awake, they knew that it was God that
spoke, and gave heed to the vision or apparition of God to
thert).

There are many more instances of the like in the sacred his-
tory ; as, first, in the remarkable case of king Solomon, 1 Kings,

Nature and Providence.

39

iii. 5. u The Lord appeared to Solomon in a dream by night,
and God said, ask what I shall give thee."

This is called in the scripture, a dream, ver. 15. " And Solo-
moo awoke, and behold it was a dream ;" and yei it is all con-
firmed ; and the petition that Solomon made, though in his sleep,
or dream is accepted and answered as his real act and deed, as
if be bad been awake.

T&at passage of Solomon is very remarkable to the case in
hand. If my readers please to believe that there was such a
man as Solomon, and that he had such a dream ; they must al-
low also that it was a real apparition, God appeared to him in a
dream.

To bring it down a step lower ; as God has thus personally
appeared to men in dreams, so have inferior spirits, and we have
examples of this too in the scripture; Matt. i. 20. " While he
thought on these things, behold the angel of the Lord appeared
unto him in a dream." And again, Matt. ii. 13. Behold the
angel of the Lord appeared unto Joseph in a dream saying ilL
And a* third time it is repeated : " The angel came again to him
in Egypt,"' ver. 19 of the same chapter: When Herod was
dead, " Behold an angel of the Lord appeareth in a dream to
Joseph in Egypt."

1 will for once suppose, that no man need desire any farther
evidence than these, for the relation of the thing itself ; we may
bring it down from hence, by just parallels, to matters within our
own reach ; experience will furnish us with particular passages
sufficient ; and some account I shall give you within the com-
pass of our own time?, such as come within the Aerge of my own
knowledge, or of the knowledge of such as I have good reason
to give credit to. I believe a variety will be acceptable, and
much more useful than a bare repeati g of what others have
said. If I find it needful to quote what others have published,
you shall have it justly marked as a quotation, that you may
search for the truth in its original.

Before I come to quotation, or to collection of story, 'tis need-
ful to observe, that as it has pleased God to appear in this man-
ner, and to cause angels to appear also in the same manner, and
upon special occasions, so 1 make no question but the devil often
appears in dreams too ; and I might give but too many exam-
ples of it, as particularly one in the scripture.

It is apparent that God gave Satan a kind of general license to
afflict Job, only not to kill him : with such a terrible commission,
it might be expected that the devil would fall upon him with the
utmost fury he was capable of, or allowed to take ; he ruined
his fortunes, reduced him to misery, murdered his chiT&ren, tor-
mented him with boils and sores : in short, left him nothing but

•40

The Wilder* of

potsherds, and an ill wife to relieve him : as he had worried hinrr
Co use a modern phrase, within an inch of his life, he followed
him in the night with apparition, lest he should recruit nature
with rest, and be a little refreshed with sleep. Job himself
complains of it, Job. vii. 14. " Thou scarest me with dreams,
and terrifiest me with visions." Not that God appeared to Job
in any frightful or terrible form ; but the devil; to whom God
was pleased to give a liberty of afflicting Job, took that liberty,
and exerted his malice to the utmost of his power. We are not
indeed told what methods the devil took to scare and terrify that
poor distressed sufferer ; but as he can shew us nothing uglier,
and more frightful than himself, so it is very likely he appeared
to him in person, and that in the most surprising manner possible,
with all the circumstances of horror that he was able. But to
pursue my subject :

The great and perhaps one of the greatest difficulties of life, I
mean that relates to dreams, is to distinguish between such a*
are real apparitions, and such as are only the product of an in-
cumbered brain, a c^stempered head, or, which is worse* a dis-
tempered mind : but se me dreams are so insignificant, that there
follows such an immediate visible effect, answering the designed
illumination, that it cannot but be significant. — Beaumont on
Spirits*

The following story I had from the mouth of the very person
who was chiefly concerned in it. I mean the captain of the
ship itself.

One Captain Thomas Rodgers, commander of a ship called the
Society, was bound on a voyage from London to Virginia, about
the year 1694.

The ship was hired in London, and being sent light, as they
call it, to Virginia, for a loading of tobacco, had not many goods
in her outward bound, suppose about two or three hundred ton,
which was not counted a loading, or indeed half her loading; the
ship being vtery large, about five hundred tons burden.

They had a pretty good passage, and the day before had had
an observation, whereupon the mates and proper officers had
brought their books and cast up the reckonings with the cap-
tain, to see how near they were to the coasts of America ; they
all agreed that they were at least about an hundred leagues dis-
tant from the capes of Virginia. Upon thes% customary reckon-
ings, and withal heaving the lead, and finding no ground at an
hundred fathoms, they set the watch, and the captain turned in
(as they call it at sea,) that is, went to bed.

The weather was good, a moderate gale of wind, and blowing
fair for the coast; so that the ship might have run about twelve
or fifteen leagues in the niirht, after the captain was in the cabin.

Natune arid Prxwidertte*

He fell asleep, and slept very soundly for about three hour*;
when he awaked again, and lay till he heard his second mate turn
oat, and relieve the watch ; and then he called his chief mater
as he was going off from the watch, and asked him bow all things
fared : who answered, that all was well, and the gale freshened,
and they run at a great rate ; but it was a fair wind, and a fine
clear night; so the captain went to sleep again.

About an hour after he had been asleep again, he dreamed that
a man pulled him, or waked him, and he did wake. I am not
sure but I think he said, the thing that waked him, bade him get
up, that is, turn out and look abroad. But whether it was so or
no, he lay still and composed himself to sleep, and was suddenly
awaked again, and thus several times; and though he knew not
what was the reason, yet he found it was impossible for him to
go to sleep : and still he heard the vision say, or thought he heard
it say, turn out and look abroad.

He lay in this uneasiness near two hours; but at last it in-
creased so upon him, that he could lie no longer, but got up, put
on his watch gown, and comes out upon the quarter deck; there
he found his second mate walking about, and the boatswain upon
the fore-castle, the night fine and clear, a fair wind, and all well
as before.

The mate wondering to see him, at first did not know him
but calling, Who's there? the captain answered, and the mate
returns, Who, the captain ! what's the matter, Sir ?

Says the captain, I don't know ; but I have been very uneasy
these two hours, and some body, or my own fancy, bid me turn
out, and look abroad, though I know not what can be the mean-
ing of it.

There can be nothing in it, but some dream, says the mate.

Says the captain, How does the ship cape?

South-west by South, says the mate; fair for the coast, and the
wind east by north.

That's all very good, says the captain ; and so aftcx some other
usual questions, he turned about to go back to his cabin ; when,
as if it had been somebody that stood by him had spoke, it came
into his mind like a voice, " Heave the lead, heave the lead.*

Upon this he turns again to his second mate: Mate, says the
captain, when did you heave the lead ? what water had you?

About an hour ago, says the mate sixty fathom.

Heave again, says the captain.

There's no matter of occasion, sir, says the mate; but if you
please it shall be done.

I dont know says the captain, 'tis needless indeed, I think,
and so was going away again; but was, as it were, forced to turn
back as before, and savs to the mate, I know not what ails me,

G

42

The Wonders of

but I cannot be easy; come, call a hand aft and heave the
lead.

Accordingly a hand was called, and the lead being cast or
heaved, as they call it, they had ground at eleven fathom.

This surprised them all, but much more when at the next cast
it came up seven fathom.

Upoifcthis the captain in a fright bade them put the helm
a-lee, and about ship, all hands being ordered to back the sails,
as is usual in such cases.

The proper orders being obeyed, the ship stayed presently,
and came about; and when she was about, before the sails filled,
she had but four fathoms and a half water under her stern ; as
soon as she filled and stood off, they had seven fathoms again,
and at the next cast. eleven fathom, and so on to twenty fathom;
so she stood off to seaward all the rest of the watch, to get into
deep water, till day-break, when being a clear morning, there
were the capes of Virginia, and all the coast of America in fair
view under their stern, and but a few leagues distance : had they
stood on but one cable's length farther, as they were going, they
had been bump a-shore, (so the sailors call it) and had certainly
lost their ship, if not their lives.

Now, what could this be ? Not the devil, that wc may vouch
for him ; he would hardly be guilty of doing so much good ;
hardly an angel sent from heaven express, that we dare not pre-
sume ; but that it was the work of a waking providence, by some
invisible agent employed for that occasion, who took sleep from
the captain's eyes ; as once, in a case of infinitely more impor-
tance, was done to king Ahasuerus. This we may conclude, had
the captain slept as usual, and as nature required, they had been
all lost ; the shore being fiat at a great distance, and, as I sup-
pose, the tide low, the ship had been a-ground in an instant, and
the sea, which runs high, would have broke over her, and soon
have dashed her in pieces.

How it happened that the mates and other navigators on board,
should all of them have kept, and yet all be out in their reckon-
ing, and that so much as to think themselves an hundred leagues
from the coast, when they were not above twenty or twenty-five,
that was to be accounted for among themselves ; but certain it
was that if it had not been for thus being alarmed in the night,
the whole ship's company might probably have been lost.

If this was not an apparition, it must be what the scripture
calls it, in another case, being warned of God in a dream, which
by the way is the samo thing ; but here was something more than
being warned, for the captain owned he was in no dream : he
dreamed nothing at all, much less any thing of danger; he went
to his bed or cabin, with all the prudent caution that any man in

Wqlare and Providence*

43

that important trust of a ship in the ocean could do ; and then,
after having made their calculations, cast up their reckonings,
set their watch, and made every tiling sure, he laid down with
all the satisfaction that it was possible for any man in a like case
to have.

I come now to another relation of fact, which also I take upon
me to vouch the reality of, having been present at the very in-
stant of every part of it.

A person, says Dr. Beaumont, whose name it is not so proper
to mention here, but who may be produced if there should be
occasion, being still living, that was under the disaster, a few
years ago, to fall under a party censure, (the occasion is needless
to the present case.) In hopes, upon the recess of the House,
which was not far off, he should (as usual) be at liberty, he with-
drew himself, and avoided being taken up as much as he could;
but the House resenting it, a vote was passed, ordering the sec-
retary of state to prosecute him at law : this obliged him to re-
solve to leave the kingdom, and in the mean time to conceal
himself with more exactness ; the government having issued out
a proclamation for apprehending him, with a reward to the per-
son who should discover where he was, so as he might be ta-
ken.

In order to conceal himself more effectually, he left his
lodging where he had been hid for some time ; and removed to
Barnet, on the edge of Hertfordshire ; intending as soon as he
had settled some family affairs, to go away north, into Scotland ;
but before he went away, he was obliged to come once more to
London, to sign some writings for the securing some estate, which
it was feared might be seized by outlaw, if the prosecution had
gone on so far.

The night before lie had appointed to come to London, as

above, being in bed with one Mr. R D , he dreamed

that he was in his lodgings in London, where he had been con-
cealed as above, and in his dream he saw two men come to the
door who said they were messengers, and produced a warrant
from the secretary of state to apprehend him, and that accord-
ingly they seized upon and took him.

The vision surprised and waked him, and he waked Mr.

D , his brother-in-law, who was in bed with him, and told

him the dream, and what a surprise he was in about it. Mr.

D , seeing it was but a dream, advised him to give no

keed to it, but compose himself, and go to sleep again ; which he
did.

As soon as he was fast asleep again, he was waked with the
same dream exactly as before ; and he waked his brother again,
as before i this disturbed them both very much ; but being heavy

44

'E£f fynnjlzte of

to sleep, they both went to sleep again, and dreamed no more.
It is to be observed, thathe saw the very men that apprehended
him, their countenances," clothes, weapons, &c. and described
them in the morning to his said brother D in all the par-
ticulars.

However, the call to go to London being as he thought ur-
gent, he got ready in the morning to set off, resolving to stay
but one day, and then set forward for Scotland. Accordingly,
he went for London in the morning, and, that he might not be
known, walked it on foot ; that so he might go by more private
ways over Enfield Chase, and so to Southgate, Hornsey, fcc.

All the way he walked, his mind was, heavy and oppressed,
and he frequently said to his brother, who walked with him, that
he was certain he was going to London to be surprised ; and so
strong was the foreboding impression upon his mind, that he,
once stopt at Hornsey, and endeavoured to get a lodging, in-
tending to send his brother to London, to see if any thing had
happened there, and to give him notice. <

As he had just secured a convenient lodging, he accidentally
saw a gentleman standing at the next door, whom he knew very
well, but durst not venture to trust on that occasion ; and finding
on enquiry that he dwelt there, he concluded that was no place
for him, and so resolved to go forward.

The impression on his mind continuing, he stopt again at
Islington, and endeavoured to get a lodging there, but could not ;
at length, his brother brought him word he could not get a lodg-
ing, except where it was too public. Well, says he, then 1 must
go to London, and take what follows, or to that purpose ; and
accordingly went, and the next morning was taken by the mes-
sengers, just in the very manner as he had been told in his dream ;
and the very same two men, whose faces he had seen, and with
the same clothes on, and weapons, exactly as he had described.

This story I had from his own mouth, and confirmed by Mr.

R D , his brother-in-law, to whom he related his

vision at the very moment of it as above.

I refer it to any impartial judgment, to weigh every circum-
stance of this account, (the truth of which I have not the least
reason to question,) and to tell me, by what powers, and from
what influence, could these things be performed, if there were
no invisible world, and no inhabitants there who concerned
themselves with our affairs ? no good spirits which conversed
with our embodied spirits, and gave us due intelligence, notice,
and warning of our approaching danger.

If there is any difficulty in this case, it seems to me to be in
the event of the thing, as in the case mentioned : why was not
the intelligence made so complete, so forcible, and the irapres-

JVature and Providence.

ston so plain, that the person in whose favour it was all done,
might have been effectually alarmed, his going forward stopt,
and consequently the mischief which was at hand, and which he
had the notice of, effectually prevented ?

It is not indeed so easy to answer that part ; but it may be
resolved into this, that the fault seems to be our own, that we
do not give due attention to such notice, as might be sufficient
to our deliverance.

Thus, if the invisible spirits give a due alarm, they do their
part, if they jog us and awaken us in a deep sleep, and pull us
again and again, and give us notice that something is coming,
that some danger is at the door ; if we still sleep on till it comes,
if we will go on, happen whatever may, the kind spirit has done
its duty, discharged its office, and if we fall into the mischief,
the fault is our own, we can by no means blame the insufficiency
of the notice, and say, to what purpose is it f seeing we had due
and timely warning, but would not take the hint ; we had due
notice of the danger, and would not step out of the way to avoid
it, the fault is wholly our own.

An account of apparitions and supernatural appearances, whicli
were seen round about the city of Jerusalem^just previous to its
overthrow by the Romans; as given by Jwsephus, the Jewish
historian.

Our Lord said in reference to the ruin of that nation — " And
fearful sights and great signs shall there be from heaven."

1 . He says ; " On the 8th of the month Zanthicus, (before
the feast of unleavened bread,) at the ninth hour of the night,
there shone round about the altar, and the circumjacent buildings
of the temple, a light equal to the brightness of the day ; which
continued for the space of half an hour."

2. " About the sixth hour of the night, (says Josephus,) the
eastern gate of the temple was found to open without human as-
sistance." This gate was of solid brass ; and so large and
heavy, as to require twenty men to close it. And Josephus says,
" it was secured by iron bolts and bars, that were let down into
a large threshold consisting of one entire stone." The Jews
themselves concluded, from the miraculous nature of this event,
that the security of their temple had fled. When the procura-
tor was informed of this event, he sent a band of men to close
the door ; who with great difficulty executed their orders.

3. Again, the same celebrated Jewish author says ; '* At a

The. Wonder* vj

subsequent feast of Pentecost, while the priests were going by
night into the inner temple, to perform their customary ministra-
tions, they first felt, (as they said) a shaking, accompanied by an
indistinct murmuring ; and afterwards voices as of a multitude,
saying in a distinct and earnest manner : " Let us depart hence."
How striking was this miraculous premonition. It commenced
with a shaking; to call and fix the attention of the Jewish
priests. Then was heard an indistinct murmur. This would
make them listen with all possible heed. Theu they hoard the
distinct voices, as of a multitude in great earnestness and haste ; —
" Let us depart hence P' And their last fatal war with the
Romans commenced Ijefore the next season for celebrating this
feast.

4. Another sign was the following. The same author says :
" A meteor resembling a sword hung over Jerusalem, during
one whole year." This could not have been a comet, for it was
stationary a whole year, and seems from the words of Josephus,
to have been much nearer than a comet, and appeared to be
appropriated to that city. This reminds one of the sword of
the destroying angel, stretched out over Jerusalem, 1 Chro. xxi.
16. This stationary position of the sword for a year, was a
lively indication that the impending ruin was fatal.

5. Josephus says again : " As the high priests were leading a
heifer to the altar Jj) be sacrificed, she brought forth a lamb in
the midst of the temple." Most striking rebuke to those infidel
priests who had rejected the lamb of God, who had shed his
blood once for all, and abrogate the Levitical sacrifices ; which
yet they were impiously continuing. This wonder was exhib-
ited in the temple, the type of the body of Christ, and at the
passover, when at a preceding passovcr Jesus was arrested and
sacrificed ; and it took place before the high priests and their at-
tendants ; so that they could never cortiplain for want of evi-
dence of the fact.

0. This author says Soon after the feast of the passover.
in various parts of the country, before the sotting of the sun,
chariots and armed men were seen in the air passing round about
Jerusalem :" This strange sight occurring before sunset, and
being seen in various parts of the country, must have been a
miraculous portent ; a sign from heaven. The Jews had said,
"what sign showest thou, that we may see and believe." Now
thry had their signs in abundance, yet they would not believe.

7. The last and most fearful sign Josephus relates ; that one
Jesus, son of Ananus, a rustic of the lower class, appeared in
the temple at the feast of tabernacles, and suddenly exclaimed,
:vJ voice from the east — a voice from the west — a voice from the
four winds — a voice t'tgainst Jcrnsnlnn and the temple — a rnirf

\*ture and Providence.

against the bridegrooms and the brides — a voice against the whole
people /" These words he continued to exclaim through the
streets of Jerusalem by day and by night, with no cessation (un-
less what was needed for the support of nature) for seven years !
He commenced in the year 63, while the city was in peace and
prosperity, and terminated his exclamations only in his death,
amidst the horrors of the siege in the year 70. This strange
thing, when it commenced, soon excited great attention : and
this Jesus was brought before Albinus, the Roman governor,
who interrogated him, but could obtain no answer except the
continuation of his woes. He commanded him to be scourged,
but to no effect. During times of festivals, this cry of his was
peculiarly loud and urgent. After the commencement of the
siege, he ascended the walls, and in a voice still more tremen-
dous than ever, he exclaimed, " Wo, wo to this ciiy, this tempi*,
and this people ."' And he then added,(for the first time for the
seven years,) " Wo, wo to myself!" The words were no soon-
er uttered, than a stone from a Roman machine without the
walls, struck him dead on the spot !

Such were the signs in the heavens and in the earth, which
Just preceded the destruction of Jerusalem. Several of them
are recorded by Tacitus as well as by Josephus. The veracity
of Josephus as a historian is probably allowed by all. Scaliger
affirms that he deserves more credit as a writer, than all the
Greek and Roman historians put together.

An Account of the commencement of the kingdom of Mexico, and
by whom ; of remarkable incidents attendant on their journey-
ings, until their establishment as suck. Also, some account of
Montezuma the II. and ninth king of Mexico. Of the su-
pernatural phenomenon, or presages of the overthrow and re-
volution of his kingdom, by the Spaniards.

That region of country in South America, called New-
Mexico, and more particularly the city, is the place at which
-everal northern tribes of Indians arrived after wandering nearly
forty years, and who came from a region of wilderness north of
the gulf of California. The cause of their separation, and
departure from their own people and country, arose very likely
from some dispute or disaffection among their tribes. But they
allege as a reason, something widely different from this, which
we gather from their tradition of this affair, as recorded in their
history.

Thero wa*. -ay thev, amoucr>t n> at the tim<* of our ']cpart»r<-

48

The Wottier* of

from the Aitecas (this was their former name) a person of great
, authority called Huitziton, to whose opinion all paid great def-
ference. This person exerted himself, though it is not known
for what reason,to persuade his countrymen to change their coun-
try, and while he was meditating on his purpose, he heard once,
by accident, a little bird singing on the branches of a tree,
whose notes imitated the Mexican word Tihui, which means, let
us go. This appeared a favourable opportunity to obtain his
wish of his countrymen. Taking, therefore, another respecta-
ble person with him, he conducted him to that tree where the
little bird used to sing, and thus addressed him : " Do you not
" attend, my friend Tecpaltxin, to what this little bird says,
" Tihui, Tihui, which it repeats every moment to us ; what can
" it mean, but that we must leave this country and find ourselves
" another ? Without doubt, it is the warning of some (secret
" divinity who watches over our welfare : let us obey, therefore,
" his voice, and not draw his anger upon us by a refusal
" Tecpaltzin gave full assent to this interpretation, either from
his opinion of the wisdom of Huitziton or because he was like-
wise prepossessed with the same desire. Two persons, so re-
spectable, having agreed in sentiment; they were not long in
drawing the body of the nation over to their party.

Although we do not give credit to such an account, it does
not however, appear altogether improbable ; as it is not difficult
for a person who is reputed wise, to persuade an ignorant and
a superstitious people, through motives of religion, to whatever
he pleases.

Although we are far enough from believing that there was
any supernatural communication through the voice of the
bird, yet no doubt there was a bird whose voice in its chipper-
ings, might resemble the Mexican word Tihui, and upon this
the artful savage built his scheme of enterprise. Immediately
departing at the voice of the bird to seek for themselves a king-
dom in remoter forests. And accordingly after wandering ma-
ny years, and passing over a tract of forest of more than one
thousand miles, at length arrived at the vale of Mexico. Toch-
.panecatl, lord of this city, received them with singular human-
ity, and not contenting himself with granting them commodious
dwellings, and regaling them plentifully ; but becoming attached
to them from long and familiar intercourse, he demanded from
the chiefs of the nation, some noble virgin for a wife to his son
Ilhuitcad. The Mexicans obliged by such proofs of regard
presented Tlacapantzin to him, who was soon after married to
that illustrious youth ; and from them the Mexican kings de-
fended.

At thi> place th« King whose name was Xolotl reviewed these

Mature an'd lkropidenvf.

tribes, and was pleased with their chiefs, and soon became uni-
ted by reciprocal marriages; and nobly gave permission that
they might locate themselves where they could. And accord-
ingly they sought their dwellings amongst those native philan-
thropists of the woods. Not many years, however, had elap-
sed, before they began to manifest their native character of en-
terprise, by depredations upon some of the neighbouring
chieft. This raised against them many enemies, and drove
them for a shelter and place of defence, to a mountain situated
on the western shore of that lake, two miles distant from the
site of the city of Mexico. Here they suffered for the space of
seventeen years, a rigorous persecution, which drove them again
for a more secure asylum to several Islands in the southern end
pf the lake. Here they subsisted fifty years in perfect wretch-
edness, living upon roots, berries, fish, and whatever they could
fitld within those narrow limits of the Islands. Covering them-
selves with a kind of large leaf, which grows plentifully in the
lake/and living*in huts'made of reeds and rushes.

Bat from this place also they were driven, and enslaved by
one of the petty kings, or chiefs of the country. After some
years slavery, a war arose between two nations of that country,
and the nation to whom the unfortunate Axtecas' were prisoners,
were worsted in their engagement, and forced to call to their
assistance the aid of their slaves. At which time, the fugitives
Aztecas* proposed among themselves the following stratagem, in
order to endeavour to please their lords by every effort of bra-
very. Accordingly, they armed themselves with long stout
staves, the points of which they hardened in the fire, not only
to be used against the enemy, but to assist them in leaping from
one bush to another if it should prove necessary, as, in fact, they
had to combat in the water. They made themselves knives of
itili, and targets or shields of reeds wove together. It was
agreed among them, that they were not to employ themselves
as it was usual in making prisoners, but to content themselves
with cutting off an ear, and leaving the enemy without further
hurt. With this disposition they went out to battle, and while
the Colhuas and Xochimilcas, were engaged, either by land on
the borders of the lake, or by water in their boats, the Mexi-
cans rushed furiously on the enemy, assisted by their staves in
the water ; cut off the ears of those whom they encountered,
and put them in baskets which they carried for that purpose ;
but when they could not effect this from the struggles of the
enemy, they killed them, liy the assistance of the Mexicans.,
the Colhuas obtained so complete a victory that the Xochimil-
cas not only abandoned the field, but afraid even to remain in
their city, they took refuge in the mountain?.

&0. The Wonders of

This action having ended with so much glory, according lo
the custom of those nations, the soldiers of the (J oil mas pre-
sented themselves with their prisoners before their general ; as
the bravery of the soldiers was not estimated by the number of
enemies which were left dead on the field, b it of those who were
made prisoners alive, and shewn to the general.

The Mexicans were likewise called upon to make the shew of
their prisoners ; but not having a single one to present, as the
only four which they had taken were kept concealed for a par-
ticular purpose ; they were reproached as a cowardly race by
the general, and the soldiers of the Colhuas. Then the Mexi-
cans holding out their baskets full of ears, said, " Behold from
u the number of ears which we present, yon may judge of the

number of prisoners we might have brought if we had inclin-
" ed, but we were unwilling to lose time in binding them that
41 we might accelerate your victory " The Colluias remained
4 awed and abashed, and began to conceive apprehensions from
.. the prudence as well as from the courage of their slaves.

The Mexicans or Afctecas, as they were then called, returned
to their place of residence, and there erected an altar to their
tutelary god ; but being desirous at the dedication of it to make
an offering of something precious, they demanded something
of their lord for that purpose. He senW them in disdain, in a
dirty rag of coarse cloth, a vile dead bird, with certain filth a-
bout it, which was carried by the priest of the Colhuas, who
having laid it upon the altar without any salutation, retired.
Whatever indignation the Mexicans felt from so unworthy an
insult, reserving their revenge for another occasion, instead of
such filth they placed upon the altar a knife of itzli, and an
odoriferous herb. The day of consecration being arrived, the
petty king of Colhua, and his nobility failed not to be present,
not to do honour to the festival, but to make a mockery of his
slaves. The Mexicans began this function with a solemn dance,
in which they appeared in their best garments, and while the
bystanders were most fixed in attention, they brought out the
four Xochimilca prisoners, whom they had till then kept con-
cealed, and after having made them dance a little, they sacrifi-
ced them upon a stone, breaking their breast with the knife of
itzli, and tearing out their heart, which, whilst yet warm and
beating, they offered to their god.

This human sacrifice, the first of the kind which we know to
have been made in that country, excited such horror in the Col-
huas, that having returned instantly to Colhu acan, they deter-
mined to dismiss slaves who were so cruel, and might in future
become destructive to the state ; on which Coxcox, so was the
petty lfitig named, sent orders to them to depart immediately

Aaiurc and Provide.nrx.

out of that district, and f$o wherever they might be most inclin-
ed. The Mexicans/willingly accepted their discharge from sla-
very, and directing their course towards the north, came to
Acatzitzintlan, a place situated between two lakes, named af-
terwards Mexkaltzinco, which name is almost the same with that
of Mexico.

As soon as the Mexicans took possession of that place, they
erected a temple for their god Huitzilopochtli. The consecra-
tion of that sanctuary, although miserable, was not made without
the effusion of human blood ; for a daring Mexican having gone
out id quest of some animal for a sacrifice, he encountered with
a Colhuan named Xomimitl ; after a few words, the feelings of
national enmity, excited them to blows ; the Mexican was victor,
and having bound his enemy carried him to his countrymen,
who sacrificed him immediately, and with great jubilee presented
his heart torn from his breast on the altar, exercising such cru-
elty not more for the bloody worship of that false divinity, than
the gratification of their revenge upon the Colhuas. Around
the sanctuary they began to build their wretched huts of reeds
and rushes, being destitute at the time of other materials.
Such was the beginning of the city of Tenochtitlan, which in
future times was to become the court of a great empire, and th$
largest and most beautiful city of the new world.

We will now give some account of Montezuma the II. but
ninth king of the Mexicans; also the names of the kings be-
fore him, and those who followed after him. History informs
us, there were eleven kings of Mexico in succession. Their
names were as follows : first,

Acainapitzin, I.

Huitzilihuitl, II.

Chimalpapoca, III.

Itzcoatl, IV.

Montezuma, V.

Axayacatl VI.

Tizoc, VII.
Ahuitzolt, VIII.

Montezuma, IX.

Cuitlahuatzin, X.
Quauhtemotzin, XI.

This last king was put to death by the soldiers of Cortez, by
broiling him upon red hot coals of fire, endeavouring thereby,
to extort from him some further account of treasures, hidden,
as they imagined, by the poor suffering monarch. But he per-
sisted in his silenee upon that subject, and died as a sacrifice up-

Ki ig of Mexico.

66

66

Li

66

66

t<

16

U

66

66

66

66

66

66

66

66

66

(t

6i

66

The Frontiers of

on the bloody altar of avarice. At the time of the elevation of
Montezuma, to the throne of Mexico, there was no heir to
succeed the deceased monarch Ahuitzntl. Therefore the no-
bles proceeded to the election of one of ti e grandsons of the
royal house, and that election fell on Montezuma Xocoyatzin.

Besides the bravery which he had displayed in several battles,
in which he held the post of general, he was likewise a priest,
and much revered for his gravity, his circumspection, and re-
ligion. He was a man of a taciturn temper, extremely delib-
erate, not only in words, but also in his actions ; and whenever
he spoke in the royal council, of which he was a member, he
was listened to with respect. Notice of the election being sent
to the two allied kings, they repaired instantly to the court to
pay their compliments. Montezuma, being apprized of it, also
retired to the temple, appearing to think himself unworthy of
so much honour. The nobility went there to acquaint him with
his being elected, and found him sweeping the pavement of the
temple. He was conducted by a numerous attendance to the
palace, where the electors, with due solemnity, intimated the
election had fallen on him as the fitttn person to fill the throne
of Mexico. From thence he returned to the temple to perform
the usual ceremonies, and as soon as they were finished he re-
ceived on the throne the homage of the nobility, and heard the
congratulatory harangues of the orators.

Who then like the silly sycophants of courts more refined,
poured forth their congratulatory speeches, both to their king
and country. To the former, for his royal Majest)', wisdom,
and benignity ; and to the latter for its singular happiness in
having so glorious a prince for its ruler.

Montezuma heard these harangues with mucji attention, and was
so greatly affected that he attempted three times to answer them,
but could not from the interruption of the tears, which tlje
secret pleasure he felt produced, and gave hira the appearance
of much humility ; but, at last after checking his emotions, he
replied in few words, declaring himself unworthy of the station
to which he was exalted, and returning thanks to the orators for
the praises which they bestowed on him ; and then returned to
the temple to keep fast for four days, at the end of which he
was re-conducted with great state to the royal palace.

But contrary to the hopes and natural expectations of his
subjects, he proved to be a proud, cruel, libidinous, and luxu-
rious king. All the servants of his palace consisted of persons
of rank. Besides those who constantly lived in it, every morn-
ing six hundred feudatory lords and nobles came to pay court
to him. They passed the whole day in the anti-chamber, where
none of tbeirservants were permitted to enter, conversing in a

Nature anU Providence.

low voice, and waiting the orders of their sovereign. The ser-
vants who accompanied those lords, were so numerous as to
occupy three small courts of the palace, and many waited in the
streets. The women about the court were not less in number,
including those of rank, servants, and slaves. All this numer-
ous female tribe, lived shut up in a kind of seraglio, under the
care of some noble matrons, who watched over their conduct ;
as these kings were extremely jealous, and every piece of mis-
conduct which happened in the palace, however slight, was se-
verely punished. Of these women the king retained those who
pleased bim ; the others he gave away, as a recompense for the
services of his vassals. All the feudatories of the crown were
obliged to reside for some months of the year, at the court ;
and at their return to the states, to leave their sons or brothers
behind them, as hostages, which the king demanded as a secu-
rity for their fidelity ; on which account they required to keep
honses in Mexico.

The forms and ceremonials introduced at court, were an-
other effect of the despotism of Montezuma. No one could en- •
ter the palace, either to serve the king, or to confer with him
on any business, without pulling off his shoes and stockings at
die gate. No person was allowed to appear before the king in
any pompous dress, as it was deemed a want of respect to ma-
jesty ; consequently the greatest lords, excepting the nearest re-
lations of the king, stripped themselves of the rich dress which
they wore, or at least covered it with one more ordinarv, to
shew their humility before him. All persons on entering the
hall of audience, and before speaking to the king, made three
bows, saying at the first, lord ; at the second, my lord ; and at
the third, great lord.* They spoke low, and with the head
inclined, and received the answer which the king gave them by
means of his secretaries, as attentively and humbly as if it had
been the voice of an oracle. In taking leave, no person ever
turned his back upon the throne.

The audience hall served also for his dining room. The
table was a large pillow, and his seat a low chair. The table
cloth, napkins, and towels were of cotten, but very fine, white,
and always perfectly clean. The kitchen utensils were of the ear-
then ware of Chohila ; but none of these things ever served him
more than once, as immediately after he gave them to one of his
nobles. The cups in which they prepared his chocolate, and oth-
er drinks of the cocoa, were of gold, or some beautiful sea-shell,
or naturally formed vessels curiously varnished. He had gold
plate, but it was used only on certain festivals, in the temple. The

* The Mexican "words are, 'Unknot, lord ; AortaTocdf«*f my lord ; and ffhfttaloaA^
U real lord.

34

The Wonders of

uumber, and variety of dishes at his table amazed the Spaniards
who saw them. The conqueror Cortez says, that they covered
the floor of a great hall, and that there were dishes of every
kind of game, fish, fruit, and herbs of that country. Three or
four hundred noble youths carried this dinner in form ; present-
ed it as soon as the king sat down to table, and immediately re-
tired ; and that it might not grow cold, every dish was accom-
panied with its chafing-dish. The king marked with a rod,
which he had in his hand, the meats which he chose, and the rest
were distributed among the nobles who were in the anti-cham-
ber. Before he sat down, four of the most beautiful women of
his seraglio, presented water to him to wash his hands, and con-
tinued standing all the time of his dinner, together with six of
his principal ministers, and his carver.

As soon as the king sat down to table, the carver shut the door
of the hall, that none of the other nobles might see him eat.
The ministers stood at a distance, and kept a profound silence,
unless when they made answer to what the king said. The car-
ver and the four women served the dishes to him. besides two
others who brought him bread made of maize baked with eggs.
He frequently heard music, during the time of his meal, and was
entertained with the humorous sayings of some deformed men
whom he kept out of mere state. He shewed much satisfaction
in hearing them, and observed that amongst their jests, they fre-
quently pronounced some important truth. When his dinner
was over he took tobacco mixed with liquid amber, in a pipe,
or reed beautifully varnished, and with the smoke of it put him-
self to sleep.

After having slept a little, upon the same low chair he gave
audience, and listened attentively to all that was communicated
to him ; encouraged those who, from embarrassment, were un-
able to speak to him, and answered every one by his ministers or
secretaries. After giving audience, he was entertained with mu-
sic, being much delighted with hearing the glorious actions of
his ancestors sung. At other times he amused himself with see-
ing various games played.

When he went abroad, he was carried on the shoulders of the
nobles in a litter covered with a rich canopy, attended by a nu-
merous retinue of courtiers ; and wherever he passed, every
person stopped with their eyes shut, as if they feared to be daz-
zled with the splendour of majesty. When he alighted from the
litter to walk on foot, they spread carpets, that he might not
touch the earth with his feet.

The grandeur and magnificence of his palaces, houses of plea-
sure, woods, and gardens, were correspondent to this majesty.
The palace of his usual residence was a vast edifice of stoin^

Nature mil Providence* •

55

and lime, which had twenty doors to the public square and
streets ; three great courts, in one of which was a beautiful foun-
tain, several halls, and more than a hundred chambers. Some
of die apartments had walls of marble and other valuable kinds
of stone. The beams were of cedar, cypress and other excellent
woods, well finished and carved. Among the halls there was
one so large, that, according to the testimony of an eye-witness
of veracity, it could contain three thousand people. Besides
this palace, he had others, both within and without the capital.
In Mexico, besides the seraglio for his wives, there was lodging
for all hit ministers and counsellors, and all the officers of his
household .and court ; and also accommodation for foreign
lords who arrived there, and particularly for the two allied
kings.

Two houses in Mexico be appropriated to animals; the one
for birds, which did not live by prey : the other for those of
prey, quadrupeds, and reptiles. There were several chambers
belonging to the first, and galleries supported on pillars of mar-
ble, all of one piece. These galleries looked towards a garden,
where, in the midst of some shrubbery, ten fish-ponds were for-
med, some of them of fresh water for the aquatic birds of rivers,
and others of salt water for those of the sea.

In other parts of the house were all sorts of birds, in such
number and variety, as to strike the Spaniards with wonder,
who could not believe there was any species in the world wan-
ting to the collection. They were supplied with the same food
which they fed upon while they enjojedflieir liberty, whether
seeds, fruits, or insects. For those birds which lived on fish,
only, the daily consumption was ten CastUian pesos offish, (ac-
cording to the testimony of the conqueror Cortez, in his let-
ters to Charles V.) which is more than three hundred Roman
pounds. Three hundred men, says Cortez, were employed to
take care of those birds, besides their physicians, who observ-
ed their distempers, and applied timely remedies to them. Of
those three hundred men, some procured them their food, others
distributed it, others took care of their eggs at the time of their
incubation, and others picked their plumage at certain seasons
of the year ; for, besides the pleasure which the king took in
seeing so great a multitude of animals collected together, he
was principally careful of their feathers, not less for the sake
of the famous Mosaic images, than of the other works which
were made of them. The halls and chambers of those houses,
were so many in number, as the conqueror above mentioned
attests, that they could have accommodated two great princes
with all their retinue. This celebrated house was situated iu

56 J The Wanders: of

the place where, at present, the great convent of St. Francis
stands.

The other house appropriated to the wild animals, had a
large and handsome court, with a chequered pavement, and
was divided into various apartments. One of them contained
all the birds of prey, from the royal eagle to the kestrel, and
many individuals of every species. These birds were dis-
tributed, according to their species, in various subterraneous
chambers, which were more than seven feet deep, and upwards
of seventeen feet in length and breadth. The half of every
chamber was covered with flat stones : and stakes; were fix-
ec^in the wall, on which they might sleep, and he defended
from rain. The other half of the chamber was only covered
with a lattice, through which they enjoyed the light of the
sun. For the support of these birds, were killed, daily, near
five hundred turkeys. In the same house were many low
halls filled with a great number of strong wooden cages,
in which, lions, tigers, wolves, coyotoo, and wild cats were
confined, and all other kinds of wild beasts, which were fed up-
on deer, rabbits, hares, techichis, and other animals, and the
intestines of human sacrifices.

The king of Mexico not only kept all the species of animals,
which other princes do for state, but likewise such as by nature
seemed exempted from slavery, namely, crocodiles, and serpents.
The serpents were kept in large casks or vessels ; the crocodiles
in ponds, which were walled round. There were also, various
ponds, for fish, two ot which, that are remaining and still beau-
tiful, we have seen in the palace of Chapoltepec, two miles from
Mexico.

Montezuma, who was not satisfied with having every sort of
animal in his palace, also collected there all irregularly formed
men, who either from the colour of their hair, or of their skin,
or some other deformity in their persons, were oddities of their
species. A humour this, however, not unattended with beneficial
consequences, as it gave maintenance to a number of miserable
objects, and delivered them from the inhuman insults of their
other fellow-creatures.

All his palaces were surrounded with beautiful gardens, when.1
there was every kind of beautiful flower, odoriferous herb, and
medicinal plant. He had, likewise, woods inclosed with walls,
and furnished with variety of game, in which he frequently
sported. One of those woods was upon an island in the lake,
known at present, among the Spaniards, by the name of Pinon.

Montezuma, after occupying the greater part of his reign in
wars and expeditions against the surrounding nations, in which
h/! acquired greut strength, celebrity, and riches, came never-

Nature and Providence.

theless, to be the subject of sorrows. Fears and apprehensions
of evil to come upon lys kingdom, occasioned by unusual phe-
nomena^ presages, be. of its dissolution. In an expedition in
tbelatter pari of his reign against the distant province of Ata-
mala, on his march, which lay over a very lofty mountain, they
ware attacked by a furious north wind, accompanied with snow,
which made great havoc in the army, as some of them who were
accustomed to a mild climate, and travelling almost without
clothing, perished with cold, and others were beat down by the
trees which were rooted up by the wind. Of the remainder of
the army, which continued their journey but feebly to Amatla,
the greater part died in battle.

These and other calamities together with the appearance of
a comet at that time, threw all the princes of Anahuac into the
utmost consternation. Montezuma, who was too observing
to look with indifference on so uncommon a phenomenon, consul-
ted his astrologers upon it ; but they being unable to divine its
meaning, applied to the king of Acolhuacan, who was reputed
able in astrology, and in the art of divination. These kings,
although they were related to, and perpetual allies of, each
other, did not live in much harmony together, the king of
Acolhuacan having put to death his son Huerotzincatzin,
paying no regard to the prayers of Montezuma, who, as the
uncle of that prince, had interfered in his behalf. For a long
time past they had neither met with their usual frequency,
nor confidence ; but on this occasion the mysterious dread which
seized the mind of Montezuma incited him to profit by the
knowledge of the king Nezahualpilli, for which reason he intrea-
ted him to come to Mexico to consult with him upon an event
which appeared equally to concern them both. Nezahualpilli
wait, and after having conferred, at length, witli Montezuma,
was of opinion, according to the account of historians, that the
comet predicted the future disasters of those kingdoms, by die
arrival of a new people. This interpretation, however, being
unsatisfactory to Montezuma, Nezahualpilli challenged him at
the game of foot ball, which was frequently played at even
by those kings themselves ; and it u as agreed between them
that if the king of Mexico gained the party, the king of Acol-
buacon should renounce his interpretation, adjudging it to be
false ; but if Nezahualpilli came off victor, Montezuma should
acknowledge and admit it to be true; a folly though truly
ridiculous in those men, to believe the truth of a prediction
could depend on the player, or the fortune of the game ; but less
pernicious, however, than that of the ancient Europeans, who
decided on truth, innocence, and honour, by a barbarous duel
■and the fortune of arms. Nezahualpilli remained victor in the

68

The fTenders of

game, and Montezuma disconsolate at the loss and the confirma-
tion of so fatal a prognostic : he was willing, however, to try
other methods, hoping to find some more favourable interpreta-
tion which might counterbalance that of the king of Acolhua-
can, and the disgrace he had suffered at play : he consulted
therefore a very famous astrologer who was much versed in the
art of divination, by which he had rendered his name so
celebrated in that land, and acquired so great a respect, that
without ever stirring abroad from his bouse he was consid-
ered and consulted by the kings themselves as an oracle. He
knowing, without doubt, what had happened between the two
kings, instead of returning a propitious answer to his sovereign,
or at least one which was equivocal, as such prognosticators gen-
erally do, confirmed the fatal prophecy of the Tezcucan. Mon-
tezuma was so enraged at the answer, that in return he made his
bouse be pulled to pieces, leaving the unhappy diviner buried
amidst the ruins of bis sanctuary.

These and other similar presages of the fall of that empire
appear represented in the paintings of the Americans, and are
related in the histories of the Spaniards. We are far from
thinking that all which has been written on this subject is de-
serving of credit; but neither can we doubt of the tradition which
prevailed among the Americans, that a new people totally dif-
ferent from the native inhabitants, were to arrive at that kingdom
and make themselves masters of that country. There has not
been in the country of Anahuac any nation more or less polished
which has not confirmed this tradition either by verbal testimony
or their own histories.

It is impossible to guess at the origin of a tradition so univer-
sal as this ; but the event which I am going to relate, is said to
have been public, and to have made a considerable noise ; to
have happened also in the presence of the two kings uid the
Mexican nobility. It is represented in some of the paintings
of those nations, and a legal attestation of it even it as sent to
the court of Madrid.* Though in compliance with the duty
of a historian, we give a place to many of the memorable tra-
ditions of those nations ; on these, however, we leave our
readers to form their own judgment and comments.

Vapantzin, a Mexican princess, and sister of Montezuma, was
married to the governor of Tlatelolco, and after his death lived
in his nalace until the year 1509, when she likewise died of old
age. Her funeral was celebrated with magnificence suitable to
her exalted birth, the king her brother, and all the nobility o*
Mexico and Tlatelolco being present. Her body was buried

* Sw5 Toitjoemada, lib. ii. cap. 91, and Betencourt, Part iii. Trat. i. cap. 8.

Nature and Providenct.

50

in a subterraneous cavern, in the garden of the same palace,
near to a fountain where she had used to bathe, and the mouth
of the cave was shut with a stone. The day following, a child
of five or six years of age happened to pass from her mother's
apartment to that of the major-domo of the deceased princess,
which was on the other side of the garden ; and in passing saw
the princess sitting upon the steps of the fountain, and heard
herself called by her, by die word Cocoton^ which is a word
of tenderness used to children T!«e little child not being ca-
pable, on acronnt of its age, of reflecting on the death of the
princess, and thinking that she was going to bathe as usual, ap-
proached without fear, upon which she sent the child to call
the wife of her major-domo ; the child went to call her, but the
woman smiling and caressing her, told her, " My little girl,
" Papantzra is dead, and was buried yesterday ;" but as the
child insisted, and pulled her by her gown* she, more to please,
than from belief of what was told her, followed her ; but hardly
come in sight of the princess, when she was seized with such hor-
ror that she fell fainting to the earth. The little girl ran to
acquaint her mother, who, with two other companions fame out
to give assistance ; but on seeing the princess they were so affec-
ted with fear that they would have swooned away if the prin-
cess herself had not endeavoured to r^nfort ihem, assuring
them she was still alive. She made them rail her major-domo,
and chartered him to go and bear the news to the king i»er
brother ; but he durst not undertake it, as he dreaded that the
kitifr would consider the account as a fable, and would punish
him with his usual severity for being a liar, without examining
into the matter. Go then to Tezcico, said the princess, and
intreat the king Nezahualpilli, in my name, to come here and
see me. The major-domo obeyed, and the king having receiv-
ed the information, set out immediately for Tlatelolco When
he arrived there, the princess was in a chamber of the palace ;
though full of astonishment, the king Minted her, when she
requested him to go to Mexico, to tell the king her brother
that she was alive, and had occasion to see him, to communicate
some things to h m of the utmost importance. The king set
out for Mexico to execute her commission ; but M mtezuma
would hardly give credit to what was told him. However,
that he might not do injustice to so respectable an ambassador,
he went along with him, and .-nany of the Mexican nobility to
Tlatelolco, and having entered the hall where the princess was,
he demanded of her if she was his sister. " I am, indeed, sir,"
answered the princess, " your sister Papantzin, whom you

t CtKoton means little girl, only that'll it an expression of more tendcttaess.

The Wonders of

" buried yesterday ; I am truly alive, and wish to relate to yeu
*« what I have seen, as it deeply concerns you." Upon this the
two kings sat down, while all the other nobles continued standing
full of admiration at what they saw.

The princess then began to speak as follows : " After I was
" dead, or if you will not believe that I have been dead, after
" I remained bereft of motion and of sense, I found myself sud-
" denly placed upon an extensive plain, to which there appeared
" no boundaries. In the middle of it I observed a road which
" I afterwards saw was divided into a variety of paths, and on
" one side ran a great river whose waters made a frightful noise.
" As 1 was going to throw myself into the river to swim to the
" opposite bank, I saw before me a beautiful youth of handsome
" stature, clothed in a long habit, white as snow, and dauling
" like the sun ; he had wings of beautiful feathers, and upon
" his forehead, this mark," (in saying this the princess made the
sign of the cross with her two fore fingers, " and laying hold of
" my hand, said to me, Stop, for it is not yet time to pass this
" river. God loves thee, though thou knoivest it not He then %
" led me along by the river-side, upon the borders of which I
" saw a great number of human sknlls and bones, and heard

most lamentable groans that waked my utmost pity. Turning
" my eyes afterwards upon the river, 1 saw some large vessels
" upon it filled with men of a complexion and dress quite dif-
" ferent from ours. They were fair and bearded, and carried
" standards in their hands, and helmets on their heads. The
" youth then said to me, It is the will of God that thou shalt live
" to be a witness of the revolutions which are to happen to these
rt kingdoms. The groans which thou hast heard among these
u bones, arefron the souls of your ancestors, which are ever and
a will be tormented for their crimes. The men whom you see
" coming in these iiessels, are those who by their arms will make
u themselves masters *f all these kingdoms, and with them will be
rt introduced the knoicltdgc of the true God, the creator . of heaven
" and earth. As soon <* the war shall be at an end, and the bath
Ct published and made kmwn which will wash away sin, be thou
" the first to receive it, and guide by thy example the natives of
" thy country. Having spoke this the youth disappeared, and
" I found myself recalled to hfe ; I rose from the place where
" I lay, raised up the stone of tqy sepulchre, and came out to
ft the garden where I was found by my domestics."

Monteznma was struck with astonishment at the recital of so
strange an adventure, and feeling his wind distracted with a va-
riety of apprehensions, rose and retired to one of his palaces
which was destined for occasions of grief, without taking leave
of his sister, the king of Tacuba or any one of those who ac»

Nature and Providence.

61

compaoied him, although tome of his flatterers, in order to
console Urn, endeavoured to persuade him that the illness which
the princess had suffered, had turned her brain. He avoided
for ever after returning to see her, that he might not again hear
the melancholy presages of the ruin of his empire. The prin-
cess, h is said, lived many years in great retirement and
abstinence. She was the first who, in the year 1534, received
the sacred baptism in Tlatelolco, and was called from that time,
Donna Maria Papantzin*

Among the memorable events, in 1510, there happened with-
out any apparent cause, a sudden and furious burning of the
turrets of the greater temple of Mexico, in a calm, serene night ;
and in the succeeding year, so violent and extraordinary an ag-
itation of the waters of the lake, that many houses of the city
were destroyed, there being at the same time no wind, earthquake,
nor any other natural cause to which the accident could be as-
cribed. It is said also, that in 1511, the figures of armed men
appeared in the air, who fought and slew each other. These
sod other similar phenomena, recounted by Acosta, Torquemada
sod others, are found very exactly described in the Mexican and
Acolhuan histories.

That God in his providence, has, in former ages, afforded to
the nations of the earth at various periods, as it pleased him,
mpernatural tokens or presages of future events, disastrous to
tte affairs of men, is evident. To believe this, requires ^su-
perstitious stretch of credulity, since history of the best autho-
rity, abundantly testify the facts. But to disbelieve it, requires
a stretch of scepticism, bordering hard upon infidelity. There
are many persons, who, notwithstanding their belief in supernat-
ural existences, yet are slow to subscribe to the idea of super-
natural communications to men. Let such remember, that God
is an omniscient spirit, and also controls all the beings of the
natural and supernatural state. And that it is perfectly consis-
tent with his general providence, goodness, and power, to give
to poor grovelling man, frequent tokens of his presence, as well
to his mind, as sight and hearing. For further communications
upon this subject, see pages 38. 46 334. 546, 547, and 572, cf
this work.

A remarkable dream, its interpretation and fulfilment taken from
the journal of Tho. Chalkley an eminent quaker minister, a
native of London, bvt spent the greater part of his life in Amer-
ica who relates the following as being aneye tcitness of the fact*
I give the account verbatim.

This great and good man being oo his homeward bound pas-
sage from America to England, relates the following of the

The Wanders of

physician of the ship, and says he dreamed while sleeping,
himself relating it to me. He thought that he went on
shore at a great and spacious town, the buildings whereof were
high, and the streets broad ; and as he went up the street he saw
a large sign, on which was written in great golden letters,
SHAME. At the door of the house, to which the sign be-
longed, stood a woman with a Cnn in her hand, who said unto
him, * Doctor, will you drink ?' He replied, 4 With all my heart ;
I h «vf A'M drunk any thinp- but water a great while ;'(our wine
and cider were all spent, as we had had a long passage,) and he
drank a harty draught, which lie said made him merry : so he
went up the street reeling to and fro, when a grim fellow coming
behind him, clapped him on the shoulder, and said, that he arrest-
ed him i ths nam? of the Governor of the place. He asked him
for f.W? and said, 4 What havel done ?' He answered, 4 For steal-
ing the woman's Can:' the Can he had ind« ed. and so he was ta-
ken before the Governor, which was a mighty black dog, the
biggest and grimest that he had ever seen in his life ; and ev-
idence was brought against him by an old companion of his,
and he was found guilty ; and his sentence was to go to prison,
and there to lie for ever. He told me this dream so punctually,
and with such an emphasis, that it affected me with serious sadness
and caused my heart to move within me, for to me the dream
deemed true, and the interpretation sure. I then told him he was
an ingenious man, and might clearly see the interpretation of
that dream, which exactly answered to his state and condition :
And I thus interpreted it to him : — * This great and spacious
place, whereof the buildings were high, and the streets broad, is
thy great and high profession : the sign, on which was written
Shane, and the woman at the door, with the Can in her hand,
truly represent that great, crying, and shameful sin of drunken-
ness, which thou knowest to be thy great weakness : the grim
fellow which arrested thee, in the devil's territories is Death, who
will assuredly arrest all mortals : the Governor which thou saw-
est under the form of a great black dog, is certainly the Devil,
who, after his servants have served him to the utmost, will tor-
ment them eternally in hell ! So he got up, as it were, in haste,
and said, 1 God forbid ! It is nothing but a dream.' But I told
him it was a ver y significant one, and a warning to him from the
Almighty, who sometimes speaks to men in dreams."

But three days only were elapsed before we meeting with a
Dutch vessel in Lime bay, hailed her and she us. They said,
they came from Lisbon and were bound for Holland. She was
loaded with wine, brandy, fruit, and such like commodities ; and
we, therefore, having little but water to drink, (because our past-
sage had been longer than we expected) sent our boat to them.

Nature and Providence be

in order to buy us a little wine to drink with our water. Our
Doetor,*and a Merchant that was a passenger, and one Sailor,
went on board, where they stayed so long, that some of them
were overcome with wine, although they were desired to beware
thereof; so that when they tame back, a rope being handed to
them, they, being filled with wine unto excess, were not capable
of using it dexterously, insoin ich that they overset the boat, and
she turned bottom upwards, having the Doctor under her,
who was drowned, yet the rest of his companions were saved.
This was the greatest misfortune we met with in our whole
voyage ; and the more so to me because the Doctor was of evil
fife and conversation, and much given to excess of drinking.
The manner of his getting intoxicated was as follows. W hen
be had got on board the aforesaid Dutch vessel, the
Master sent for a Can of wine, and said. 4 Doctor will you
drink f 9 He replied, ' Yes, with all my heart, for I've drank no
wine a great while.' Upon which he drank a hearty draught
that made him merry, as he said in bis dream. And notwith-
standing the admonition which was so clearly manifested to him
bat three days before, and the many promises he had made to
Almighty God, some of which I was a witness of when strong
convictions were upon him yet now he was unhappily overcome,
and in drink when he was drowned. This is, I think, a lively re-
presentation of the tender mercy, and just judgment of the Al-
mighty to poor mortals, and worthy to be recorded to pos-
terity, as a warning to all lovers of wine and strong drink. O
intemperance, hell is indebted to thee for many of her millions.

— ••^•"•^

HISTORY OF GIANTS.

A curious memorandum of the opinions of various writers upon
this subject.

The romances of all ages have furnished us with so many
extravagant accounts of giants of incredible bulk and strength,
that the existence of such people is now generally disbelieved.
It is commonly thought that the stature of man hath been, at
lea>t very nearly, the same in all ajjes ; and some have even
pretended to demonstrate the impossibility of the existence of
giants mathematically. Of these, our countryman M'Laurin
bath been the most explicit. " In general, (sa*s he) it will ea-
sily appear, that the efforts tending to destroy the cohesion
of beams arising from their own gravity, only increase in the
quadruplicate ratio of their lengths ; but, that the opposite efforts

i

64 The Wonders of

tending to preserve their cohesion increase only in the triplicate
proportion of the same lengths. From which it fbUftws that
the greater beams must be in greater danger of breaking than
the lesser similar ones : and though a lesser beam may be
firm and secure, yet a greater similar one may be made so long
that it will necessarily break by its own weight. Hence Galielo
justly concludes, that what appears very firm and succeeds very
well in models, may be very weak and infirm, or even fall to
pieces by its own weight, when it comes to be executed in large
dimensions according to the model. From the same principle
he argues, that there are necessary limits in the operations of
nature and art, which they cannot surpass in magnitude. Were
trees of a very enormous size, their branches would fall by their
own weight. Large animals have not strength in proportion to
their sixe ; aud if there were any land animals much larger than
those we know, they could hardly move, and would be perpetu-
ally subject to the most dangerous accidents. As to the animals
of the sea, indeed, the case is different ; for the gravity of the
water in a great measure sustains those animals ; and in fact
these are known sometimes to be vastly larger than the greatest
land animals. Nor does it avail against this doctrine to tell as
that bones have sometimes been found which were supposed to
have belonged to giants of immense size ; such as the skeletons
mentioned by Strabo and Pliny, the former of which was sixty
cubits high, and the latter forty-six : for naturalists have con-
cluded on just grounds, that in some cases these bones have be-
longed to elephants; and that the larger ones were, bones of
whales, which had been brought to the places where they were
found by the deluge. Though it must be owned that there ap-
pears no reason why there may not have been men who have
exceeded by some feet in height the tallest now living."

It will easily be seen, that arguments of this kind can never
be conclusive; because, along with an increase of stature, in any
animal, we must always suppose a proportional increase in the
cohesion of the parts of its body. Large works sometimes fail
when constructed on the plan of models, because the cohesion
of the materials whereof the model is made, and of the large
work, are the same ; but a difference in this respect will produce
a very remarkable difference in the ultimate result. Thus, sup-
pose a model is made of firewood, the model may be firm and
strong enough ; but a large work made also of fir, when exe-
cuted according to the plan of the model, may be so weak that
it will fall to pieces with its own weight. If, however, we make
use of iron for the large work instead of fir, the whole will be
sufficiently strong, even though made exactly according to the
plan of the model. The like may be said with regard to large

Nature qn& Providence.

and small animals. If We could find an animal whose bones ex-
ceeded in hardness and strength the bones of other animals as
mnch as iron exceeds fir, such an animal might be of a monstrous
she, and yet be exceedingly strong. In like manner if we sup-
pose the flesh and bones of a giant to be greatly superior in hard-
ness and strength to the bones of other men, the great size of
his body will be no objection at all to his strength. The whole
of the matter therefore, concerning the existence of giants must
rest on the credibility of the accounts we have from those who
pretend to have seen them, and not on auy arguments drawn a
priori.

In the scripture we are told of mighty men who were prt>-
dnced from the marriages of the sons of God with the daugh-
ters of men. In other parts of the scripture, giants with their
dimensions are mentioned in such a manner that we cannot pos-i
ribly doubt ; as in the case of Og, king of Bashan, and Goliah.
In a memoir read before the academy of sciences at Rouen, M.
Le Cat gives the following account of giants that are said to
have existed in different ages.

" Profane historians have given seven feet of height to Her-
cules their first hero ; and in our days we have seen men eight
feet high. The giant who was shewn in Rouen in 1735f
measured eight feet some inches. The emperor, Maximin was
of that size ; Shenkius and Platerus, physicians of the seven-
teeth century, saw several of that stature, and Goropius saw
a girl who was ten feet high. The body of Orestes, according
to the Greeks, was eleven feet and a half ; the giant Galbara*
brought from Arabia to Rome, under Claudius Caesar, was
near ten feet ; and the bones of Sccondella and Pusio, keepers
of the garden of Sallust, were but six inches shorter. Funnara,
a Scotsman who lived in the time of Eugene II. king of Scot-
land, measured eleven feet and a half ; and Jacob le Maire, in
his voyage to the straits of Magellan, reports that on the 17th
of December 1015, they found at Port Desire several graves
covered with stones : and having the curiosity to remove the
stones, they discovered human skeletons of ten and eleven feet
long. The chevalier Scory, in his voyage to the Peak of
TenerifTe, says, that they found in one of the sepulchral cai'-
enis of that mountain the head of Guanch which had eighty
teeth, and that the body was not less than fifteen feet long —
The giant Ferragus, slain by Orlando, nephew of Charlemagne,
was eighteen feet high. Rioland, a celebrated anatomist, who
wrote in 1614, says, that some years before there was to be
seen in the suburbs of St. Germain the tomb of the giant
Isoret, who was twenty feet high. In Rouen, in 1509, in dig-
ging in the ditches, near the Dominicans, they found a stow

0

The fVonde* <rf

tomb containing a skeleton whose skull held a" bushelpf corn,
and whose shin-bone reached up to the girdle of Mb tallest
man there, being about four feet long, and consequently the
body must have been seventeen or eighteen feet high. Upon
the tomb was a plate of copper, whereon was engraved, " In
this tomb lies the noble and puissant lord, the chevalier Ricon
de Vallemont, and his bones." Platerus, a famous physician,
declares that he saw at Lucerne the true human bones of a sub-
ject which must have been at least nineteen feet high. Valence
in Dauphine boasts of possessing the bones of the giant Bucart
tyrant of the Vivarais, who was slain by an arrow by the count
De Cabillon his vassal. The Dominicans had a pnrt of the
shin-bone, with the articulation of the knee, and his figure
painted in fresco, with an inscription, shewing that this giant
was twenty-two feet and a half high, and that his bones were
found in 1705, near the banks of the Morderi, a little river at
the foot of the mountain of Crussal, upon which (tradition says)
that giant dwelt.

"January 11, 1613, some masons digging near the ruins of
a castle in Dauphine, in a field which (by tradition) had long
been called the giant's field, at the depth of eighteen feet dis-
covered a brick tomb, thirty feet long, twelve feet wide, and
eight feet high; on whcih was a grey stone, with the words
Theutolochus Rex, cut thereon. When the tomb was opened,
they found a human skeleton entire, twenty five feet and a half
long, ten feet wide across the shoulders, and five feet deep from
the breastbone to the back. His teeth were each about the
she of an ox's foot, and his shin-bone measured four feet. —
Near Maiarino in Sicily, in 1516, was found a giant thirty feet
bigh ; his head was the size of an hogshead, and each of his
teeth weighed five ounces. Near Palermo, in the valley of
Maiara, in Sicily, a skeleton of a giant thirty feet long was
found, in the year 1548 ; and another. of thirty-three feet high
in 1550; and many curious persons have preserved several of
these gigantic bones.

It is certain, that there have been nations of men considera-
bly exceeding the common stature. Thus all the Roman his-
torians informs us, that the Gauls and Germans exceeded the
Italians in size ; and it appears that the Italians in those days
were of much the samje. stature with the people of the present
age. Among these riottjiern nations, it is also probable, that
there would be as great differences in stature as there are among
the present race of men. If that can be allowed, we may easi-
ly believe that some of these barbarians might be called giants,
without any great impropriety. Of this superiority of size,
in<feed> the historian Floras gives a notable instance in Teuto-

Nature and Providence. 67

bochus, above mentioned, king of Teutones : who being de-
feated and taken prisoner by Marius, was carried in triumph be*
fore him at Rome, when his head reached above the trophies
that was carried in the same procession.

But whether these accounts are credited or not, we are very
certain that the stature of the human body is by no means ab-
solutely fixed. We are ourselves a kind of giants in comparison
of the Laplander ; nor are these the most diminutive people to
be found upon the earth. The abbe la Chappe, in his journey
into Siberia, in order to observe the last transit of Venus, pass*
ed through a village inhabited by people called Wotiacks,
neither the men nor women of whom were above four feet high.
The accounts of the Patagonians also, whicli cannot entirely be
discredited, render it very probable, that somewhere in South-
America (here is a race of people very considerably exceeding
the common size of mankind, and consequently that we cannot
altogether discredit the relations of giants handed down to us
by ancient authors ; though what degree of credit we ought to
give them, is not easy to be determined.

There is according lo Mr. Morse, see his Geography, p. 611,
upon the Rocky ridge, in the island of Ceylon, a tomb of im-
mense length. How many feet long a tomb of immense length
is, would be hard to tell, but 1 think it not unreasonable to say
twenty feet.

Further remarks upon the subject of Giants.

At this day it is conceived, by some, extravagant to believe,-
tliere ever existed persons denominated a'iants. Although at
first thought upon this subject, we are inclined to abandou such
accounts as untrue ; perhaps it would be well to consult the
scriptures, which embrace the most ancient and the most authen-
tic history of giants, before we pronounce the accounts alluded
to altogether fabulous. First, in the book of Genesis, 6th chap-
tf,r, verse 4th, it is said, " there were giants in the earth in
those days." This was previous to the deluge, and the inhabi-
tants of that time 1 ved to the age of many hundred years.

There can be no doubt that the people of that age possessed
n hardiness of constitution and a robustness of person quite un-
known to the present inhabitants of any part of the globe.—
From this very circumstance of longer date of life, greater mag-
nitude of person might be expected to be the natural result.
If so, where then is the absurdity of supposing them to be, in
general, persons of greater stature ? If at the present day there
are found persons who are' an exception from the common site
flf men. of which Doct. Adam Clarke, of London, gives us the

68

The H'ondeps of

account, in bis comment of the scriptures, upon the subject of
giants ; viz : that he had known a young man who measured
eight feet and six inches in height, and every way well propor-
tioned. If, therefore, at this day such a monster of a man is
known to exist, how much more may we say, and with confi-
dence too, that in those ages, when man lived longer on the
earth; there were exceptions from the general sixe of men, of a
more monstrous and astonishing description ? Therefore it is
said there were giants in the earth in those days.

The book of Numbers in the second place, chap. 1 3, notices
tltis subject in the following manner. At the time when Moses
sent out the spies to explore the country of the Canaanites, they
returned with this account : that they had found cities which
were walled, and very great ; and that they had seen the chil-
dren of Anak there, who were giants. And on this very ac-
count they were afraid, and discouraged the people from such
an enterprise ; declaring that they were notable to go up against
them, because they were stronger than they.

And further, they said, that they were a people who eat up the
inhabitants thereof ; alleging that all the people they saw
were men of great stature. And besides all this they had seen
the sons of Anak, who came of the giants ; in whose presence
they felt themselves to be but grasshoppers, in comparison of
them : while the giants esteemed the Israelites in the same light,
as grasshoppers. When, therefore, this account was spread
abroad, through the camp of Israel, they were terrified be-
yond measure, and wept all that night, for very fear that they
should all be devoured of the giants : for the spies had said
that they eat up the inhabitants of the land. But Moses, and
Aaron, and Joshua, and Caleb, and some of the spies, endeav-
oured to encourage the people not to fear them, but to go up
and possess the land. But this only enraged them, and they
made haste to stone their leaders : which was prevented only
by the sudden appearance of the glory of God in the taberna-
cle, who reproved them for their anger and unbelief.

Thirdly, we will notice the 2d chap, of Deuteronomy upon
this subject, see verses 10, 11. 20, 21. The Emims dwelt
therein in times past, a people great, and many, and tall as the
Anakims ; which also were accounted giants. Verse 20 ; That
also was accounted aland of giants : giants dwelt therein in old
time. Verse 21; A people great, and many, and tall as the
Anakims ; but the Lord destroyed tliem. From the above
quotations it appears that there were an abundance of gigantic
people in ancient days ; but sdme may say, truly this is proved,
but unfortunately their height is not spoken of so clearly as
fright be desired. To this we will answer, that the design of

JYatuve and Providence.

God, in giving to us the history of his works and ways, was not
to satisfy a vain curiosity, by telling us of the heights of men
or the balk of beast, &c. but to shew us his wonderous power,
and amazing goodness and holiness, to excite our fear and love
of him, and to imitate his holiness. Yet the scriptures have
stooped and condescended to afford us four instances, the only
that I recollect, which -intimate pretty clearly what the height
of some of those giants were : but this 1 consider is only to
shew us that the Lord is stronger than the strongest ; for it is
said he destroyed those nations.

The scriptures I allude to are, first, the 3d chap, of Deu-
teronomy, 11th verse, where it is said, for only Og king of
Bashan remained of the remnant of giants ; behold, his bedstead
was bedstead of iron : is it not in Rabbath of the children of
Ammon ? nine cubits was the length thereof, and four cubits
the breadth of it. Doct. Adam Clarke, in his comment upon
this, remarks, that bishop Cumberland, in his account of the
length of a cubit, says it contains 21 inches and a trifle over.
This being correct, we have, at once, the length of his bed-
stead, which was 1 5 feet ; and 7 feet 8 inches in width.

The second instance is in the book of Amos, 2d chap. 9th
verse, where the prophet relates what God had done for his
people in times past, viz : that he destroyed the Amorite before
them, whose height was like the height of the cedars, and he
was strong as the oak. This it is conceived is spoken in the
strongest terms ; representing the height of some of those peo-
ple at least, to be equal to the height of the cedar tree, which
in that country is a tree of considerable magnitude and height.

The third instance is that of Goliath of Gath, whose height
was six cubits and a span ; which is eleven feet and three in-
ches.

From the above remarks and quotations, we think it is safe
to conclude, that anciently, giants were more common and enor-
mous than at the present day And we think by these that the
accounts on page 63 of this work, are in some measure cor-
roborated ; and the reasons given for the finding of those large
skeletons of the human kind, in the enrth in various ages.

The fourth scripture account, which is upon this subject, is
Chronicles, 11th chap, verse 23. And he, (Benaiah, one of
David's captains,) slew an Egyptian, a man of great stature,
five cubits high ; which is eight feet and nine inches.

It is not unreasonable to believe that the autideluvians, many
of them, and also since thedelug*, of the ancient nations, were
men of great stature ; which is shewn, both from sacred ami
profane history.

70

The Wonders of

The above scripture accounts seem to place the subject in a
very definite light ; and subdues the mind to a belief of the ex-
istence of giants anciently. If there have been beasts once,
which now are extinct, of a greater size than any known at the
present day, why not men therefore ? one is as possible as the
other. But what beast ever existed, that does not now exist ?
In the book of Job God says to Job, Behold now behemoth,
which I made with thee ; he eateth grass as an ox : bis bones
are as strong pieces of brass ; his bones are like bars of iron :
be trustetb that he can draw up Jordan into his mouth : he
njoveth his tail like a cedar* Behemoth cannot be supposed to
be the elephant ; because it is said of behemoth, that he moveth
his tail like a cedar; for it is well known that the tail of the ele-
phant is remarkably small, considering the great bulk of the
animal. From this one circumstance, which God himself has
pointed out as being remarkable, viz: that his tail has the ap-
pearance of a cedar tree, goes to show the great magnitude of
behemoth. From this we will argue, and with safety too, that
as this beast far exceeds, in bulk, any beast known on the globe
at this time ; so might some men at that day, as far exceed the
largest men, now known among men. Perhaps behemoth is the
same beast spoken of by authors of later years, called the mam-
moth } whose skeletons have been found in the earth, of such
vast dimensions as to justify the above remarks, in application
to behemoth. Our conceptions of things are apt to accord with
such things as we have seen : but most assuredly the earth has
afforded beasts larger than it does now ; and men of greater
bulk and strength than it affords at this day.

A WONDERFUL CONVERSION.

Conversion of a wicked sea Captain, by means, through grace, of
his cabin Boy.

" A brand plucked from the burnijig.'*

[Zion's Herald.]

A few months since, a vessel sailed from England with a cap-
tain whose habitual blasphemy, drunkenness, and tyranny, so dis-
gusted the crew, that some of the most fatal consequences might
have taken place, but for the sudden and alarming illness of
this cruel and depraved commander. The mate took charge
of the ship, and the captain, greatly afflicted in his cabin, was

JVatune and Frovideacr.

71

left by the unanimous voice of a hardened crew, to perish. He
had continued nearly a week in this neglected state, none ven-
turing to visit him, when the heart of a poor boy on board was
touched with the sufferings of this wicked man, and he determin-
ed, notwithstanding the opposition of the crew, to enter the
cabin, and speak to the captain. He descended the companion
ladder, and opening the state room door, called out, ' Captain,
how are you ?' A surly voice replied, * What's that to you ; be
off!' Thus repulsed, the boy went on deck ; but next morning
he determined to make another attempt, and at the state-room
cried, ' Captain, 1 hope you are better ;' ' O Bob lam very bad,
been very ill all night.' Tiie boy encouraged with this mild
answer,, drew nigh the bed-place, and said, Captain, please let
me wash your hands and face, it will refresh you very much.' —
The captain nodded assent. Having performed this kind-office,
the boy said — * Please master, let me shave you.' He was per-
mitted to do this also, and having adjusted the bed clothes,
he grew bolder, and proposed ' some tea.' The captain had
been a desperate and wicked man beyond many, and as he knew
he had no mercy to expect from his crew, so he was determined
not to solicit any. 'I'd perish,' said his obstinate perverse *oul,
rather than ask one favour of them.' But the un olicited and
undeserved kindness of this poor hoy found way to the heart of
this violent man, and in spite of all his daring independent spirit,
his bowels melted, and his iron face displayed the starting tear,
while his soul involuntarily sighed. O brotherly kindness, in the
hour of need, though issuing from a stripling, how amiable thou
art ! How many ways has the Almighty of gaining access to the
hearts of his stubborn and rebellious creatures ! A little cap-
tive maid directs the leprous Naaman, and a menial servant
mildly subdues the haughty general into compliance with the
prophet's order, 2d Kings, chap. v. The captain scon felt the
good effect of the boy's attendance, and then fore permitted
him to do what he pleased in future for the alleviation of his
pains, or the restoration of his health.

The captain now declined apace ; his weakness was daily in-
creasing, and he became gradually convinced that he should not
live many weeks at farthest. His mind was filled with increasing
terror, as the prospect of death and eternity drew nearer to his
confused and agitated view. I le was as ignorant as he was wick-
ed. Brought up among the worst of seamen -in his early life,
he had imbibed all their principles, followed their practices,
and despised remonstrance or reproof. A man-of-war had fin-
ished his education, and a long course of successful voyages, a>
master of a vessel, had contributed to harden hi-; heart, and not
only to say there is no God, hut to act under that persuasion.

The Wonders of

Alarmed at the idea of death, and ignorant of the way of salva-
tion, with a conscience now thundering conviction to his soul,
he cried, one morning just as Bob opened the state-room door,
and affectionately inquired, 4 Well, master, how is it with you
this morning ?' 4 Ah, Bob, I'm very bad, my body is getting
worse and worse, but I should not mind that so much, were it
not for my soul. O Bob, what shall I do ? I'm a great sinner,
I'm afraid I shall go to hell, I deserve it. Alas, Bob, I'm a lost
man !' 4 O my master,' said the boy, 4 don't be alarmed ; God
is merciful, and I am sure you will not be lost. He knows what
sailors are, and I dare say he'll save you.' 4 No, Bob, no, I
cannot see the least prospect of being saved. O what a sinner I
have been, what will become of me ?' His stony heart was bro-
ken, and he poured out his complaints before the boy, who strove
all he could to comfort him, but in vain.

One morning the boy just appeared, when the captain sling
out, 'O Bob, I've been thinking of a bible, I know there is not
one in the cabin, go forward, and see if you can find one in the
men's chests.' The boy succeeded, and the poor dying man
beheld him enter with tears of joy. 4 Ah, Bob, that will do,
that will do, you must read to me, and I shall soon know whether
such a wicked man as I can be saved, and how it is to be done.
Now Bob, sit down on my chest, and read to me out of the
blessed book.' 4 Where shall I read, master ?' 4 1 do not know*
Bob, I cannot at present read myself ; but try and pick out some
places that speak about sinners and salvation.' 4 Well master,
then I'll take the New-Testament : you and I shall understand
it better, for as my poor mother used to say, there is not so
many hard words there.' The boy read for two hours, while
the captain, stretching his neck over the bed-place, listened
with the eagerness of a man on the verge of eternity. Every
word conveyed light to his mind, and his astonished soul soon
beheld sin as he had never seen it before. The justice of God in
his eternal ruin, struck him with amazing force, and though he
heard of a Saviour, still the great difficulty of knowing how he
could be saved, appeared a mystery unfathomable. He had
been ruminating a great part of the night on some passages Bob
had read, but they only served to depress his spirits, and terrify
his soul. The next morning, when the boy entered the state-
room, he exclaimed, 4 O Bob, I shall never live to reach the
land, I'm dying very fast : you'll soon have to cast me over-
board, but all this is nothing — my soul ! my poor soul ! Ah,
Bob, my dear lad, what will become of my soul ? O I shall be
lost forever.' 4 No, no, master, don't be alarmed. I believe
you will be saved yet ; remember I read many fine things yes-
terday about salvation/ 4 Bob. can you prey?' 4 No, master.

ffaturie dtid Providence.

I ufever prayed In my life any more, than say the Lord's prayer'
my mother taught me.1 *6 Bob, pray for me';*go" down on
yonr knees and cry for mercy \ do Bob, that's a good lad. God
will bless you for it. O kneel down and pray for your poor
wicked captain.'— -The boy hesitated, the master urged, the lad
wept, the master groaned, 'God be merciful to me a sinner.9
Both cried greatly. ' O Bob, for God's sake kneel down and
pray for me'. Overcome by importunity and compassion, the
boy fell on his knees, and with heavy sobs cried out, 'Lord,
have mercy on my poor dying captain. O Lord, I'm a poor
ignorant, wicked sailor boy. — Lord, I don't know what to say :
Lord, the captain says I must pray for him, but 1 don't know
how— I am but a child. I should be glad to get him tea, or do
any thing I can for him; but, Lord, I don't know how to pray
for trim — Lord, have mercy on him. He says he shall be lost,
Lord save him ! He says he shall go to bell, Lord, take him to
heaven. He says that he shall be with devils, O that he may
be with angels. Don't let him perish, O Lord. Thou knowest
that I love' him, and am sorry that he's so ill. The men won't
come near him, but I'll do the best I can for him as long as he
lives, but I can't save him. O Lord, pity my poor captain ; sec
htm thin and weak he is ! O comfort his troubled mind. Lord,
I never prayed before like this. O help me, Lord, to pray for
my master!' Rising from his knees, he said, 4 1 have, master,
I have done the best I could for you. Now cheer up : I think
you'll get to heaven.'

The captain was too much affected to speak, the simplicity,
sincerity, and humility of the lad's prayer, had much impressed
his mind, so that he lay groaning inwardly with spiritual auguish,
and wetting his couch with his tears. Bob retired on deck, for
the scene had quite overcome him. In the evening he again
read the Bible to the captain, whose soul appeared to receive
every word with indescribable eagerness. The next morning
on entering the state-room, the boy was struck with the extra-
ordinary change visible in his master's features. That gloomy
horror, which had so long added to the natural ferocity of his
weather-beaten countenance, was fled, and while his affliction
had softened and more fully exhibited the various parts of his
countenance, the circumstances of the past night had settled the
*hole arrangement of his features into a holy, pleasant, calm,
and resigned state, that would seem to say,

The men of ^rr«ce have fuiin'i
Glory U-£un bclo.v*.

Bob had scarcely time to notice, with a smile of congratula-
tion, this pleasing change, when the master in a low

10

m Wonder* of

voice, but with great humility, began, 'O Bob, my dear lad, f
fell into a sort of a doze — my mind was full of the blessed tilings
you have been reading to me from the precious Bible: all on a
sudden I thought I was in that corner of my bed-place, Jesus
Christ hanging bleeding on the cross. — Struck with the sight,
I arose and crawled to the place, and casting myself at his feet
in the greatest agony of soul, I cried out for a long time like the
blind man you read of, ' Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy
on me.' At length I thought he looked on me — yes, my dear
lad, he looked at your poor wicked captain — and O Bob, what
a look it was— I shall never forget it. My blood rushed to my
heart— my pulse beat high — my soul thrilled with agitation, and
waiti.tg for him to speak,with fear not unmixed with hope, I saw
him smile; yes, and be smiled on me— on me, Bob. O my
dear boy, he smiled on wretched me. Ah, what did I feel at
that moment! My heart was too full to speak: but I waited
and ventured to look up, when I heard him say, hanging as he
did on the cross, the blood streaming from his hands and feet,
and said: O Bob, what sounds were these, shall I ever hear his
beloved voice again ? I heard him say, in sounds that angels
cannot reach, ( Son, be of good cheer, thy sins, which are many,
are all forgiven thee !' My heart burst with joy; I fell pros-
trate at his feet ; I could not utter a word, but glory, glory,
glory ! The vision vanished, I fell back on my pillow. I open-
ed my eyes ; I was covered with perspiration ; I said, O this can-
not be a dream. No, Bob, this is no vision, now I know my
sins are pardoned; I know that Jesus bled and died for me; I
can believe the promises, the many precious promises, you have
read to me out of the Bible, and I feel that the blood of the
cross can cleanse even me. I am not afraid to die ; no, Bob,
ray sins are pardoned through Jesus. I want no more, I am
now ready to die, I have no wish to live. 1 cannot, I feel I
cannot be many days longer on this side of eternity. The ex-
treme agitation of mind, of late, has increased the fever of my
body, and I shall soon breathe my last. (The boy, who had
silently shed many tears, now burst into a flood of sorrow, and
involuntarily cried, 'No, my dear master, don't leave me.')
' Bob, said he, calmly, my dear boy, comfort your mind ; I am
happy ; I am going to be happy forever. I feel for you, my
bowels yearn over you as if you was my own child ; I am sorry
you live in such a wicked world, and with such wicked men as
sailors are in general. O may you ever be kept from those
crimes into which I have fallen. Your kindness to me, my dear
lad, has been great : God will reward you for it. To you I owe
every thing, as an instrument in God's hauds ! surely he sent
you to mel God bless you my dear boy, tell my crew to (or-

•Valor* tiad ProviiUnce.

giveine, as I forgive and pray for them.' Thus the day passed
in the most pleasing and profitable maimer, when Bob, after
reading the Bible, as usual, retired to his hammock, full of mer-
cy and good fruit.

Eager the next morning to meet again, Bob arose at day -light,
and opening the state-room door, saw his master had risen from
his pillow, and crawled to the corner of his bed-place where
he beheld the cross.

There he appeared kneeling in the attitude of prayer, his
hands clasped and raised, and his body leaning against the ship's
ride. The boy paused and waited a few minutes, fearful of dis-
turbing his master ; at length, he called in a sort of whisper,
master ; no answer ! master ; no reply ! He ventured to creep
forward a little, and then said, master ! all was silent ! again he
cried, captain : silence reigned ! He stretched out his hand and
touched his leg ; it was cold, and stiff, and clammy. He called
again, captain ; he raised his hand to his shoulder ; he tenderly
shook it. The position of his body was altered; it declined
gently until it rested on the bed ; but the Spirit fled some hours
before to be with Christ, which is far better.

"•#•»■-

OF THE FIERY SIMOOM OF ARABIA.

An Account of the Moving Pillars of Sand, in the desert of
Au&uz, given by Mr. Bruce, who describes this fearful Pheno-
menon, having encountered one in passing over (hat desert to
Grand Cairo.

[From Mr. Bruce's Travels.]

On the 20th of October, 1772, Mr. Eruceleft Chendi, intend-
ing to go to Grand Cairo, through the Nubian Desert. His com-
pany consisted of Idris their guide, who promised Mr, Bruce that
be would live and die with him, and a young man a relation of
his; Ismael a Turk ; three Greek servants, one of whom was al-
[nost blind ; and two Barbarians, who took care of the Camels ;
in all nine persons, eight of whom were effective. They were
all well armed, except Idris and his lad, who had lances, the only
arms they could use. On the 9th of Nov. after having repeated
the prayer of peace, they put on the best countenance possible,
and committed themselves to the desert.

" On the 14th, (says Mr. Bruce) at seven in the morning, we
khAssa Nagga, our course being due north. At one o'clock
we alighted amongaomeaccacia-treesat Waadiel Halboub^has-

T/ie WonSers vjf

jog gone twenty-one miles. We were here surprised and terri-
fied by a sight, surely one of the most magnificent in the world.
In that vast expanse of desert, from N. W. of us, we saw a num-
ber of prodigious pillars of sand at different distances, at times
moving with great celerity, at others stalking on with a majestic
slowness : at intervals we thought they were coming, in a very
few minutes, to overwhelm us ; and small quantities of sand did
actually more than once reach us. Again they would retreat so
as to be almost out of sight, their tops reaching to the very
clouds. There the tops often separated from the bodies ; and
these, once disjoined, dispersed in the air, and did not appear
more. Sometimes they were broken near the middle, as if
struck with a large cannon shot. About noon they began to ad-
vance with considerable swiftness upon us, the wind being very
strong at north. Eleven of them ranged alongsid»of us about
the distance of three miles. The greatest diameter of the larg-
est appeared to .me, at that distance, as if it would measure ten
feet. They then retired from us with a wind at S. E. leaving an
impression upon my mind to which I can give no name, though
Surely one ingredient in it was fear, with a considerable degree
of wonder and astonishment. It was in vain to think of flying;
the swiftest horse, or fastest sailing ship, could be ef no use to
carry us out of this danger, and the full persuasion of this rivet-
ted me as if to the spot where I stood, and let the camels gain on
ine so much in my state of lameness, that it was with some diffi-
culty I could overtake them.

The Arabs to whom this inhospitable spot belongs are the Ad-
elaia. They are s>aid to be a harmless race, and to do no hurt
to the caravans they meet. We went very slowly to-day, onr feet
being sore and greatly swelled. The whole of our company
were much disheartened, and imagined they were advancing
into whirlwinds of moving sand, from which they should never
be able to extricate themselves ; but before four o'clock in the
afternoon these phantoms of the plain had all of them fallen to
the ground and disappeared. In the evening we came to Waa-
ii Dimokea, where we passed the night, much disheartened, and
our fea/s more increased, when we found upon awakening in the
morning, that one side was perfectly buried in the sand that the
wind had blown above us in the night.

From this day, subordination, though not entirely ceased, was
fast on the decline ; all was discontent, murmuring, and fear.
Our water was greatly diminished, and that terrible death, by
thirst, began to stare us in the face, and this was owing in a great
measure, to our own imprudence. Ismael, who had been left
sentinel over the skins of water, had slept so soundly, that this
'had given an opportunity to a Tueorory to open one of the skins

Nature and Frovidenci.

that had not been touched, and serve himself out of it at his own
discretion. I suppose that, hearing somebody stir, and fearing
detection, he had withdrawn himself as soon as possible, with-
out taking time to tie the mouth of the girba, which wc found
in the morning with scarce a quart of water in.

On the 15th, at seven in the morning, we left Waadi Dimokea,
keeping a little to the westward of north, just upon the line of
Syene. The same ridge of hills being on our right and left as
yesterday, in the centre of these appeared Del Antd. At two
o'clock in the afternoon we came to an opening in the ridge of
rocks ; the passage is about *- m*'e broad, through which we
continued till we alighted at the foot of the mountain Del Aned.

The same appearance of moving pillars of sand presented
themselves to us this day in form and disposition like those we
had seen at Waadi Halboub, only they seemed to be more in num-
ber and less in size. They came several times in a direction
close upon us ; that is, I believe, within less than two miles.
They began immediately after sun-rise, like a thick wood, and
almost darkened the sun : his rays shining through them for near
an hour, gave them an appearance of pillars of fire. Our peo-
ple now became desperate : the Greeks shrieked out, and said
k was the day of judgment. Ismael pronounced it to be hell ;
and the Tucorories, that the world was on fire. I asked Idris if
ever he had before seen such a sight ? He said he had often seen
them as terrible, though never worse ; but what he feared most
was that extreme redness in the air, which was a sure presage of
the coming of the Simoom. I entreated Idris that he would not
say one word of that in the hearing of the people, for they had
already felt it in their way from Ras el Feel to Teawa, and again
at the Acaba of Gerri, before we came to Chendij and they were
now nearly distracted at the apprehension of finding it here.

At half past four o'clock in the afternoon we left Waadi del
Aned, our course a little more to the westward than the direc-
tion of Syene. The sands which had disappeared yesterday,
scarcely shewed themselves at all this day, and a great distance
from the horizon. This was, however, a comfort but of short
duration. I observed Idris took no part in it, but only warned
me and the servants, that, upon the coming of the Simoom, we
.should fall upon our faces, with our mouths upon the earth, so
as not to partakeof the outward air as long as we could hold our
breath. We alighted at six o'clock at a small rock in the san-
dy ground, without trees or herbage, so that our camels fasted
all that night. This place is called El Movt, which signifies
death, a name of bad omen.

On the 16th, at half past ten in the forenoon, we left ElMout,
standing in the direction close upon Syene* Our men were in

78

T/ie Wonders of

better spirits than I had seen them since we left Qooz. At elev-
en o'clock, while we contemplated with great pleasure the rag-
ged top of Chiggre, to which we were fast approaching, and
where we were to solace ourselves with plenty of good water,
Jdris cried out, with a loud voice, Fall upon your faces, for here
is the Simoom. I saw from the S. E. a haze come, in colour
like the purple part of the rainbow, but not so compressed 01
thick. It did not occupy twenty yards in breadth, and was
about twelve feet high from the ground. It was a kind of blush
upon the air, and it moved very rapidly, for 1 could scarce turn
to fall upon the ground with my head to the northward, when 1
felt the heat of its current plainly upon my face. We all lay
flat on the ground, as if dead, till Idris told us it was blown over.
The meteor, or purple haze, which I saw, was indeed passed,
but the light air that still blew was of heat to threaten suffoca-
tion. For my pa/t, I found distinctly in my breast that I had
imbibed a part of it, nor was I free of an asthmetic sensation till
I had been some months in Italy, at the baths of Poretta, neai
two years afterwards.

An universal despondency had taken possession of our people.
They ceased to speak to one another, and whan they did, it was
in whispers, by which I easily guessed their discourse was not
favourable to me, or else they were increasing each other's fears,
by vain suggestion calculated to sink each other's spirits still
further, but from which no earthly good tould possibly result,
I called them together, and both reprimanded and exhortec
them in the strongest manner I could ; I bade them attend tc
me, who had nearly lost my voice by the Simoom, and desirec
them to look in my face, so swelled as scarcely to 'permit me tc
see ; my neck covered with blisters, my feet swelled and inflam-
ed, and bleeding with many wounds. In answer to the lamen
tation lhat the water was exhausted, and that they were upoi
the point of dying with thirst, I ordered each man a gourc
full of water more than he had the preceding day, and sbewet
them at no great distance, the bare, black, and sharp point o
the rock Chiggre, wherein was the well, at which we wen
.again to fill our girbas, and thereby banish the fear of dyinj
by thirst in the desert. I believe I never was at any time mor<
eloquent, and never bad eloquence a more sudden effect.—
They all protested and declared their concern chiefly arose fron
the situation they saw me in ; that they feared not death o
hardship, provided I would submit a little to their direction ii
the taking a proper care of myself. They intreated me to us<
one of the camels, and throw off the load that it carried, tha
it would ease me of the wounds in my feet, by riding at leas
' part of the day. This I positively refused to do, but recom

Nature and Promdtmx**

mended to them to be strong of heart, and to spare the camels
for the last resource, if any should be taken ill and unable to
walk any longer.

This phenomenon of the Simoom, unexpected by us, though
foreseen by JWrw, caused us to relapse into our former des-
pondency. It still continued to blow, so as to exhaust us entire-
ly, though the blast was so weak as scarcely would have raised a
leaf from the ground. At twenty minutes before five the Si-
moom ceased, and a comfortable and cooling breeze came by
starts from the north, blowing five or six minutes at a time, and
then falling calm. We were now come to the Acaba, the ascent
before we arrived at Chiggrt, where we intended to have stopped
that night, but we all moved on with tacit consent, nor did one
person pretend to say how far he guessed we were to go.

At eight, we alighted in a sandy plain absolutely without
herbage, covered with loose stones, a quarter of a mile due
ftorth of the well, which is in the narrow gorge forming the
southern outlet of this small plain. Though we had travelled
thirteen hours this day, it was but at a slow pace, our camels
keirig famished as well as tired, and lamed likewise by the sharp
Worses with which the ground in all places was covered. The
co**ntry, for three days past, had been destitute of herbage of
any kind, entirely desert, and abandoned to the moving sands.

saw this day, large blocks and strata of pure white marble,
*q*-* s=*l to any in colour that ever came from Paros.

^^higgre is a small narrow valley, closely covered up and
sur^ounc|ed with barren rocks. The wells are ten in number,
and the narrow gorge that opens to them is not ten yards broad.

springs however are very abundant. Wherever a pit is
^gg* five or six feet deep, it is immediately filled with water. —
priucipal pool is about forty yards square and five feet
^e^p; but the best tasted water was in the cleft of a rockr
abo^i thirty yards higher, on the west side of this narrow out-
let^ ah the water, however was very foul, with a number of
atti*»als both aquatic and land. It was impossible to drink
wl*liout putting a piece of our cotton girdle over our mouths,
10 S^eep, by filtration, the filth of dead animals out of it. We saw
a Sreat many partridges upon the face of the bare rock; but
w^^tthey fed upon I could not guess, unless upon insects. We
dwi not dare to shoot at them, for fear of being heard by the wan-
dering Arabs that might be somewhere in the neighbourhood ;
for Chiggre is a haunt of the Bishareen of the tribe of Abou Ber-
fr<*n, who, though they do not make it a station, because there is
no pasture in the neighbourhood, nor can any thing grow there.
yet it is one of the most valuable places of refreshment, on ac-
count of the great quantity of water, beinc: nearly half way.

The Wonders

when tbey drive their cattle from the borders of die Red Sea to
the banks of the At/e ; as also in their expeditions from south to
north, when they leave their encampments in Barbar, to rob the
Ababde Arabs on the frontiers of Egypt.

Our first attention was to our camels, to whom we gave that
day a double feed of dora, that they might drink for the rest of
their journey, should the wells in the way prove scant of water.
We then washed in a large pool, the coldest water, I think, I ev-
er felt, on account of its being in a cave covered with a rock, and
was inaccessible to the sun in any direction. All my people
seemed greatly recovered by this refrigeration, but from some
cause or other, it fared otherwise with the Tucorory ; one of
whom died about an hour after our arrival, and another early the
next morning."

Of Abram's ancient stock, and Ishmael's swarthy bands ;

Their progeny** rove here amid the fiery sands,

The bond maid Hagar's seed, a sanguinary host,

Where Pyramids o? whirling dust ; and Simoom's walk the coast

TRAVELS OF BRUCE.

Extracts from the travels and adventures of Mr. Bruce in various
parts of the southern hemisphere.

Mr. Bruce on his return to Egypt from Gondar, the capital of
Abyssinia, made some stay at the town of Tcherkin, situate in the
north of that kingdom, on the confines of Atbara. Here he was
hospitably entertained by a young nobleman named Ayto Confu,
with whom he had been acquainted at Gondar, but was now at
bis country seat at Tcherkin. Our traveller gives us the follow-
ing entertaining description of that part of Abyssinia, and the
mode practised by the natives in hunting the elephant, rhinoceros
and buffalo.

There is great plenty of game of every sort about Tcherkin ; ele-
phants, rhinoceroses, and a great number of buffaloes, which
differ nothing in form from the buffaloes of Europe or Egypt, but
very much in temper and disposition. They are fierce, rash, and
tearless of danger : and contrary to the practice of every other
creature not carnivorous, they attack the traveller and the hunter
equally, and it requires address to escape from them. They seem
. to be, of all others, the creature the most given to ease and indul-
gence. They lie under the most shady trees, near large pools of
water, of which they make constant use, and sleep soundly all the
(lay long. The flesh of the female is very good when fat, but

Nature and Providtnce.

31

that of the male, bard, lean, and disagreeable. Their horns are
used in various manners by the turners, in which craft the Abys-
sinians are very expert. In the woods there are many civit cats,
but they know not the use of them, nor how to extract the civit.
The Mahometans only are possessed of this art.

On the 6th of January, 1 772, an hour before day, we mounted
on horseback, to the number of about thirty belonging to Ayto
Confu. But there was another body, both of horse and foot,
*which madehuntingtheelephanttheir particular business. These
men dwell constantly in the woods, and know very little of the
use of bread, living entirely upon the flesh of the beasts they kill,
chiefly that of the elephant and rhinoceros. They are exceeding*
ly thin, light, and agile, both on horseback and foot ; are very
swarthy, though few of them black ; none of them woolly-headed,
and all of them have European features. They are called Aga-
geer,a name of their profession, not of their nation, which conies
fro id the word Agar, and signifies to hough or ham-string with a
sh arp weapon. More properly it means, indeed, to cut the tendon
°f the heel, and is a characteristic of the manner in which they
to'l 1 the elephant, which is as follows : — Two men, absolutely
Baked, without any rag or covering at all about them, get on
he* mseback ; this precaution is for fear of being laid hold of by the
f**^^s or bushes, in making their escape from a very watchful
eie>my. One of these riders sits upon the back of the horse,
so,*^ietimes with a saddle, and sometimes without one, with only a
svv- i tch or short stick in one hand, carefully managing the bridle
w* * h the other; behind him sits his companion, who has no other
ar »~msbut a broad-sword, such as is used bj' the Sclavonians, and
w*"* ich is brought from Trieste. His leYt hand is employed grasp*
ln£3£- the sword by the handle, and about fourteen inches of the
bl ^ is covered with whip cord. This part he takes in his right
hs**id, without an}' danger of being hurt by it ; and, though the
ec^ £?;es of the lower part of the sword are as sharp as a razor, he
c**~ries it without a scabbard.

-As soon as the elephant is found feeding, the horseman rides
to^fore him, as near his face as possible ; or, if he flies, crosses
"Tn in all directions, crying out, " I am such a man, and such a
tft**n ; this is my horse, that has such a name ; I killed your father
\Vfc such a place, and your grand father in such another place, and
V am now come to kill you ; you are but an ass in comparison of
them." This nonsense he verily believes the elephant under-
stands, who, chafed and angry at hearing the noisr im mediately be-
fore him, seeks to seize hi n with his trunk or proboscis, and. intent
upon this, follows the horse every where, turning and turning
round with him, neglectful of making his escape by running
*traiirht forward, in which consists his onlv safetv. MVr having

11

82

The Wonders of

made him turn once or twice Sn pursuit of the horse, the horse-
man rides close up along-side of him, and drops his companion
just behind on the off side ; and while he engages the elephant's
attention upon the horse, the footman behind gives him a drawn
stroke just above the heel, or what in man is called the tendon of
Achilles. This is the critical moment ; the horseman immediately
wheels round, and takes his companion up behind him, and rides
off full speed after the rest of the herd, if they have started more
than one ; and sometimes an expert Agageer will kill three out oi
one herd. If the sword is good, and the man not afraid, the ten-
don is commonly entirely separated ; and if it is not cut through,
it is generally so far divided, that the animal, with the stress he
puts upon it, breaks the remaining part asunder. In either case,
be remains incapable of advancing a step, till the horseman re-
turning, or his companions coming up, pierce him through with
javelins or lances ; he then falls to the ground, and expires with
the loss of blood.

The huntsman nearest me presently lamed his elephant, and left
him standing, but failed in the pursuit of the second, and, being
close upon him at entering the wood, he received a violent blow
from a branch of a tree which, the elephant had bent by his
weight, and after passing, allowed to replace itself, when it
knocked down both the riders, and* very much hurt the horse.
This, indeed, is the great danger of elephant hunting ; for some
of the trees, that are dry and short, break, by the violent pressure
of so immense a body moving so rapidly, and fall upon the pur-
suers, or across the roads. But the greatest number of these trees,
being of a succulent quality, they bend without breaking, and re-
turn quickly to their f<1rme« position, when they strike both horse
and man so violently, that they often beat them to pieces, and
scatter them upon the plain. Dextrous, too, as the riders are,
the elephant sometimes reaches them with his trunk, whh which
he dashes the horse against the ground, and then sets his feet
upon him, till he tears him limb from limb with his proboscis ;
a great many hunters die this way. Besides this, the soil, at
this time of the year, is split into deep chasms, or cavities, by
the heat of the sun, so that nothing can be more dangerous than
the riding.

The elephant once slain, they cut the whole flesh off his bones
fato thongs, like the reins of a bridle, and hang these, like fes-
ffcons upon the branches of trees, till they become perfectly dry,
without salt, and then thej' lay them by for their provision in the
season of the rains.

1 shall take upon me to resolve a difficulty, viz. — for what use
the teeth of the elephant, and the horn of the rhinoceros were
intended. The sheep, goats, horses, cattle, and all the beast?

Nature and Providence.

83

of ihe country live upon branches of trees. There are, in every
part of these immense forests, trees of a soft, succulent substance,
full of pith. These are the principal food of the elephant and
rhinoceros. They first eat the tops of their leaves and branch-
es; they then, with their horns or teeth, begin as near to the
root as they can, and rip, or cut the more woody part, or trunks
of these, up to where they were eaten before, till they fall in so
wmy p'iable pieces of the size of laths. After this, they take
all these in their monstrous mouths, and twist them round as we
could do the leaves of a lettuce. The vestiges of this process,
in Us different stages, we saw every day throughout the forest,
and the horns of the rhinoceros, and teeth of the elephant, are
often found broken, when their gluttony leads them to attempt
too large or firm a tree. ,

There now remained but two elephants of thoM* that had been
discovered, which were a she one with a calf. The people hav-
ing observed the place of her retreat, thither we hastily followed.
She was very soon found, and as soon lamed ; but when they
came to wound her with the darts, as every one did in their turn,
to our very great surprise, the young one, which had been suffer-
ed to escape unheeded and unpursued, came out from the thick-
et, apparently in ^reat anger, running upon the horses and men
with* all the violence it was master of. 1 was amazed ; and as
much as ever I was, upon such an occasion, afflicted at seeing
the great affection of the littl ■ animal defending its wounded
mother, heedless of its own life or safety. I therefore cried to
them, to spare the mother, though it was then too late ; and the
calf had made several rude attacks upon me, which 1 avoided
without difficulty ; but I am happy to this day, in the reflection
that I did not strike it. At last, making one of its attacks upon
a gentleman, it hurt him a little on the leg; upon which he thrust
it through with his lance, as others did after, and it then fell dead
before its wounded mother, whom it had so affectionately defend-
ed. It was about the size of an ass, but round, big bellied, and
heavily made ; and was so furious, and unruly, that it would
easily have broken the leg either of man or horse, could it have
overtaken them, and jostled against them properly.

Here is an example of a beast (a young one too) possessing
abstracted sentiments to a very high degree. By its flight on
the first appearance of the hunters, it is plain it apprehended
danger to itself, it also reflated upon that of its mother, which
was the cause of its return to her assistance. This affection or
duty, or let us call it any thing we please, except instinct, was
stronger than the fear of danger ; and it must have conquered
that fear by reflection before it returned, when it resolved to

4

84 * The Wonders of

make its best and last efforts, for it never attempted to fly aftei
wards.

The huntsmen having procured as much meat as would main
tain them a long time, could not be persuaded to continue tfa
bunting any longer. Part of them remained with the she ek
phant, which seemed to be the fattest ; though the one they kil
led first was by much the most valuable, on account of its loo
teeth. It was still alive, nor did it seem an easy operation t
kill it, though it was totally helpless, except with its trunk*

We sought about for the buffaloes and rhinoceroses, but thoug
there were plenty of both in the neighbourhood, we could no
find them ; our noise and shooting in the morning having proba
bly scared them away. One rhinoceros only was seen by a sei
vant. We returned in the eveniner to a great fire, and lay a)
night under the shade of trees. Here we saw them separate th
great teeth of the elephant from the head, by roasting the jaw
bones on the fire, till the lower, thin, and hollow part of th
teeth were nearly consumed ; and then they came out easilj
the thin part being of no value.

The next morning we were on horseback by the dawn of da;
in search of the rhinoceros, many of which we had heard mak
a very deep groan and cry as the morning approached ; severa
of the huntsmen then joined us, and after we had searched abou
an hour in the very thickest part of the wood, one of them rush
ed out with great violence, crossing the pl<»in towards a wood o
canes that was about two miles distance. But though he ran, o
rather trotted, with surprising speed, considering hisbulk, hewa
in a very little time, transfixed with thirty or forty javelins
which so confounded him, that he left his purpose of going t<
the wood, and ran into a deep hole ditch, or ravine, act/Z de sac
without outlet, breaking above a dozen of the javelins as he en
lered. Here we thought he was caught in a trap, for he hac
scarce room to turn ; when a servant, who had a gun, standing
directly over him, fired at his head, and the animal fell immedi
ately, to all appearance dead. All those on foot now jumped ii
with their knives to cut him up, and they had scarce begun
when the animal recovered so far as to rise upon his knees ; hap-
py then was the man that escaped first ; and had not one Gf the
huntsmen, who was himself engaged in the ravine, cut the sinew
of the hind leg as he was retreating, there would have been a verj
sorrowful account of the foot hunters that day.

After having dispatched him, I was cuiious to see what wounc
the shot had given, which had operated so violently upon so huge
an animal ; and I doubted not it was in the brain. But it had
struck him no where but upon the point of the foremost horn, ol
which it had carried off above an inch ; and this had oc-

Xaturt: and Providenct .

casioned a concussion that had stunned him Tor a moment, till
the bleeding had recovered him. I preserved the horn from cu-
riosity, and have it now by me. I saw evidently the ball had
touched no other part of the beast.

While we were busy with the rhinoceros, Ammonios joined
as. He was a man of approved courage and conduct, and had
been in all the wars of Abyssinia, and was placed about Ayto
Coiifu, to lead the troops, curb the presumption, and check the
impetuosity of that youthful warrior. He was tall and awkward-
ly made ; slow in speech a id motion, about sixty years of age,
and more corpulent than the Abvssinians generally are ; in a
word, as pedantic and grave in his manner, as it is possible to ex-
press. He spent his whole leisure time in reading the scripture,
nor did he willingly discourse of any thing else. He had been
bred a foot-soldier ; and, though he rode as well as many of the
Abyssinians, yet, having long stirrup-leathers, with iron rings at
tHe end of them, into which he put his naked toe only, instead of
stirrups, he had no strength nor agility on horseback, nor was
his bridle such as could command his horse to stop, or wind and
turn sharply among trees, though he might make a tolerable'
figure on a plain.

A Boar, roused on our right, had wounded a horse and a
footman of Ayto Confu, and then escaped. Two buffaloes were
found by those on the right, one of which wounded a horse like-
wise. We killed the other, without being in any sort of danger.
Our horses were considerably blown, not tired, and though we
were beating homewards, still we were looking for more game.
Ammonios was on the left among the bushes, and some large trees,
close on the bank of the river Bedowi, which stands there in
pools. Whether the buffalo found Ammonios, or Ammonios the
buffalo, is what we could never get him to explain to us ; but he
bad wounded the beast slightly in the buttock, which, in return,
bad gored his horse, and thrown both him and it to the ground.
Luckily, however, his cloak had fallen off, which the buffalo tore
pieces, and employed himself for a minute with that and with
the horse, but then left them, and followed the man as soon as he
saw bira rise and run. Ammonios prot behind one large tree, and
from that to another still larger. The buffalo turned very awk-
wardly, but kept close in pursuit ; and there was no doubt he
would have worn our friend out, who was not used to such quick
notion.

The moment I heard his repeated cries, I galloped out of the
bushes to the place where he was, and could not help laughing
*t the figure of our friend, very attentive to the beast's motions,
which seemed to dodge with great address, and keep to his adver
*ry with the utmost obstinacy. Confu immediately arrived, bu

The Wonders of

did not offer to interfere ; on the contrary, lie clapped his bauds,
and cried, " Well done, Ammonios," declaring he never saw so
equal a match in his life. The unfortunate Ammonios had been
driven from tree to tree, till he had got behind one within a few
yards of the water ; but the brushwood upon the banks, and his
attention to the buffalo, hindered him from seeing how far it was
below him. And well he 'night be on his guard ; for the animal
was absoluu ly mad, tossing up the ground with his feet, both be-
fore and behind. " Sir, said 1 to AyioCoufu, this will be but an
ugly joke to night, if we bring home that man's corpse, killed in
0 the very midst of us, while we were looking on." Saying this,
I parted at a canter behind the trees, -crying to Ammonios to
throw himself into the water, when 1 should strike the beast ;
and seeing the buffaloe's head turned from me, at full speed I ran
the spear into the lower part of his belly, through his whole in-
testines, till it came out above a foot on the other side, and there
I left it, with a view to hinder the buffalo from turning. It was
a spear which, though small in the head, had a ttrong, tough,
seasoned shaft, which did not break by striking it against the
trees and bushes, and it pained and impeded the animal's motions,
till Ammonios quitting the tree, dashed through the bushes with
some difficulty, and threw himself into the river. But here *&
danger occurred which I had not foreseen. The pool was very
deep, and Ammonios could not swim ; so that though he escaped
from the buffalo, he would infallibly have been drowned, had he
not caught hold of some strong roots of a tree, shooting out of
the bank ; and there he by in perfect safety from the enemy, till
our servants went round, and brought him out of the pool on
the further side. 1

In the mean time, the buffalo, mortally wounded, seeing his en-*
emy had escaped, kept his eyes intent upon us, who were about
forty yards from him, walking backwards towards us, with intent
to turn suddenly upon the nearest horse ; when Ay to Confu or-
dered two men with guns to shoot him through the head, and he
instantly fell. The two we fir>t killed were females ; this last
was a bull, and one of the largest, confessedly, that had ever
been seen. Though not fat, 1 guess he weighed nearer (\{\y than
forty stone. His horns from the root, following the line of their
curve, were ab »ut fifty-two inches, and nearly nine where thick-
est in the circumference. We were now within sight of home,
to which we went straight, without further hunting. Neither
the ridicule nor the condolence of the young men could force
one word from Ammonios ; only when I asked him whether or
not he was hurt, be answered from the scripture, " He that lov-
eth danger shall perish in it." Eccl. iii. 2f>.

In the month of June 1708, Mr. Bruce arrived at Alexandria,

Nature a nd Pro ride net .

m Egypt. After visiting Cairo, the Pyramids, and other part*
of lower Egypt, be ascended the Nile as far as the first cataract.
He returned from this expedition in Jan. 1769, to Kennc, upon
the Nile, in order to join the caravan that was carrying wheat
fromEfrypt to Mecca, across the desert of the Thebaid. On the
16th of Feb. 1769. our traveller left Kenne. "All the way-
worn Kenne," (says Mr. Bruce) " close on our left were desert
hills, on which not the least verdure grew, but a few plants of a
large species of Solanum, [i. e. Nightshade.] At half past two
we came to a well, called Bir Amber, the well of spices, and a vil-
lage of the same name, belonging to the Azaizy,a poor inconsid-
erable tribe of Arabs. They live by letting out their cattle for
hire to the caravans that go toCoffeir ; and attending themselves
when necessary. It got its name, I suppose, from its having for-
merly been a station of the caravans from the Red Sea, loaded
with this . ind of merchandize from India. The houses of the
Azaizy are of a very particular construction. They are all made
of potter's clay, in one piece, in shape of a bee-hive; the largest
is not above ten feet high, and the greatest diameter six. There
are no vestiges here of any canal, mentioned to have been cut
between the Nile and the Red Sea.

On the 17th, having mounted my servants all on horseback,
and taken the charge of our own camels, (for there was a confu-
sion in our caravan not to be described, and our guards we knew
were but a set of thieves) we advanced slowly into the desert.
There were about 200 men on horseback, armed with firelocks;
all of them Hons, if you believed their word or appearance; but
we were credibly informed, that fifty of the Arabs, at first sight,
would have made these heroes fly without any bloodshed.

Had not gone two miles before 1 was joined by Mahomet
Abdel Gin, a Howadat Arab whom I had brought with me in the
hoatfrom Cairo. He offered me his service with great profes-
sions of gratitude, and told me, that he hoped I would again take
charge of his money, as I had before done from Cairo. Our
road was all the way in an open plain, bounded by hillocks of
sand, and fine gravel, perfectly hard, and not perceptibly above
the level of the plain country of E^ypt. About twelve miles
fistant there is a ridge of mountains of no considerable height,
perhaps the most barren in the world. Between these our road
lay through plains, never three miles broad, but without trees,
>hrubs, or herbs. There are not even the traces of any living
creature, neither serpent or lizard, antelope nor ostrich, the
nsnal inhabitants of the most dreary deserts. There is no sort
rf water on the surface, brackish or sweet. Kvcn the birds
*eena to avoid the place a* pestilential, not having seen one of
any kind so much as living over. The sun was burning l\o\^

88

The Wonders of

upon rubbing two slicks together, in half a minute they boi
took fire, and flamed ; a mark bow near the country was redi
ced to a general conflagration !

At half past three, we pitched our tent near some draw-well
which, upon tasting, we found bitterer than soot. We had ii
deed, other water carried by the camels in skins. This well-wi
ter had only one needful quality, it was cold, and therefore vei
comfortable for refreshing us outwardly. This unpleasant st
tion is called Legeta ; here we were obliged to pass the nigh
and all next day, to wait the arrival of the caravans of Cus, E
ne and part of those of Kenne, and Ebanout.

While at the wells of Legete, my Arab, Abdel Gin, came i
me with his money, which amounted to nineteen sequins and
half. " What ! said I, Mahomet, are you never false atnon
your countrymen neither by sea nor land ?" " Oh, no, replie
Mahomet; the difference, when we were on board the boat, wa
we had three thieves only ; but, when assembled here, we shs
have above three thousand. — Bull have an advice to give you
— " And my ears," said 1, " Mahomet, are always open to ac
vice, especially in strange countries." — " These people," coi
tinued Mahomet," are all afraid of the Atouni Arabs; an
when attacked, they will run away, and leave you in the han<
of these Atouni, who will carry off your baggage. But do n<
kill any of the Atouni if they come, for that will be a bad affai
but go aside and let me manage. I will answer with my lif
though all the caravan should be stripped stark-naked, and yo
loaded with gold, not one ar.icle belonging to you shall he toucl
ed." I questioned him very particular about this intimatioi
as it was an affair of much consequence, and I was so well sati
fied, that I resolved to conform strictly to it.

In the evening came 20 Turks from Caramania, which is thi
part of Asia Minor immediately on the side of the Mediterran<
an opposite to the coast of Egypt ; all of them neatly and clean!
dressed like Turks, all on camels, armed with swords, a pair <
pistols at their girdle, and a short neat gun; their arms were i
very good order, with their flints and ammunition stowed in ca
tridge boxes, in n very soldier-like manner. A few of these spol
Arabic, and my Greek servant, Michael, interpreted for the res
Having been informed, that the large tent belonged to the En{
lishman, they came into it without ceremony. They told n
that they were a number of neighbours and companions, who h?
set out together to go to Mecca, to the Hadje; and not knowir
the language or customs of the people, they had been but indi
ferently used since they landed at Alexandria, that one of tl
Owaui, or swimmintr thieves had been on board of them in tl
night, and had carried off a snnll portmanteau with about 2f

Mature and Providence.

Bequius in gold; that though a complaint had been made to the
Key of Girgfc, yet no satisfaction had been obtained ; and that
now they had heard an Englishman was here, whom they reck-
oned their countryman, they had come to propose, that we should
make a common cause to defend each other against all enemies.
"What they meant by countryman was this : — There is in Asia
TMhior, somewhere between Anatolia and Caramania, a district
which they call Caz Dagli, corruptly Caz Dangli, and this the
Turks believe was the country from which the English first drew
their origin ; and on this account they never fail to claim kindred
with the English wherever they meet, especially if they stand in
need of their assistance.

J told them the arrangement I had taken with the Arab. At
first, they thought it was too much confidence to place in hint,
but I convinced them, that it was greatly diminishing our risk,
and, let -the worst come to the worst, 1 was well satisfied that,
armed as we were, on foot, we were more than sufficient to beat
the Atouni, afjer they had defeated the clownish caravan of Egypt,
from whose courage we certainly had nothing to expect. I can-
not conceal the secret pleasure I had in finding the character of
my country so firmly established among nations so distant, ene-
mies to our religion, and strangers to our government. Turks
from Mount Taurus, and Arabs from the desert of Libya, though
themselves unsafe among their own countrymen, but trusted
their lives and their little fortunes implicitly to the direction and
word of an Englishman whom they had never before seen !

These Turks seemed to be above the middling rank of people;
each of them had his little cloak bag very neatly packed up ; and
they gave me to understand that there was money in it. These
they placed in my servants tent, and chained them all together,
round the middle pillar of it ; for it was easy to see the Arabs
of the caravan had those packages in view, from the first moment
of the Turk's arrival. On the 19th we departed from Legeta.
Ourjonrney, all that day, was though a plain, never less than
a mile broad, and never broader than three ; the hills, on our
right and left, were higher than the former, and of a brownish
calcined colour, like the stones on the sides of Mount Vesuvius,
but without any herb or tree upon them.

At ten we passed a mountain of green and red marble, and at
twelve we entered a plain called Hamra, where we first observ-
ed the sand red, with a purple cast, of the colour of porphyry. I
dismounted here, to examine of what the rocks were composed ;
and found, with the greatest pleasure, that here began the quar-
ries of porphyry, without the mixture of any other stone ; but it
was imperfect, brittle, and soft. I had not been engaged in this
pursuit an hour, before we were alarmed with n report ibat the

12

The Wonders of

Atonni had attacked the rear of the caravan ; we were at the
head of it. The Turks and my servants were all drawn togeth-
er, at the foot of the mountain, and posted a9 advantageously as
possible. But it soon appeared that they were some thieves on-
ly, who had attempted to steal some loads of corn from camels
that were weak, or fallen lame, perhaps in intelligence with those
of our own caravans. All the rest of the afternoon, we sa*
mountains, of a perfectly purple colour, all of them porphyry,
At four, we pitched our tent at Main el Mafdrek. The coloui
of the valley El Hamra continued to this station; and it waj
very singular to observe, that the ants, or pismires, the only liv-
ing creature I had yet observed, were all of a beautiful red coloui
like the sand.

* The 20th, we left Main el Maferak, and, at ten, came to the
mouth of the defiles. At eleven we began to descend, having
had a vejry imperceptible ascent from Kenne all the way. We
were now indemnified for the sameness of our natural produc-
tions yesterday ; for, on each side of the plain, we found dif
ferent sorts of marble, twelve kinds of which I selected, and toot
with* me. At noon, we came to a plain planted with acacia-
trees, at equal distances ; single trees, spreading broader than
usual, as if on purpose to proportion the refreshment they gave
to the number of travellers who stood in need of it. This is a
station of the Atouni Arabs after rain. From our leaving Le-
geta, we had no water that, nor the following day. On the righ
hand Side of this plain we found porphyry and granite, of ver}
beautiful kinds. All the way, on both sides of the valley, this
day, the mountains were of porphyry, and a very few of stone
The 21st, we pas ed several defiles, perpetually alarmed by i
report that the Arabs were approaching ; none of whom we evei
saw. We then proceeded through a long plain that turns to th<
eastf then north-east, and north, so as to make a portion of acir
cle. At the end of this plain we came to a mountain, the great-
est part of which was marble, verde antico, as it is called in Rome
but by far the most beautiful of the kind 1 had ever seen. Hav-
ing passed this, we had mountains on both sides of us, but partic-
ularly on our right. The only ones that 1 myself examinee
were a kind of granite, with reddish veins throughout, with tri-
angular and square black spots. These* mountains continued tc
Mesage el Terfowey, where we encamped at noon ; we were obli-
ged to bring our water from about five miles to the south-east. —
This water lies in cavities and grottos in the rock, of which then
are twelve in number. Great rains fall here in February. Th«
clouds, breaking on the tops of these mountains, in their way U
Abyssinia, fill these cisterns with large supplies, which the im-
pending rocks secure from evaporation.

4

Nature and Providence. 91

II was the first fresb water we tasted since we left tbe Nile;
and the only'water of any kind since we lejt Legeta'. But siffck
had been the foresight of our caravan, that very few retorted
Jbither, having all laid in abundant storefront the Nile ; and some
of theni a quantity sufficient to serve them till their return. This
was not our case. We had water it is true, from the Nile ; but
we never thought we could have too much, as long as there was
room in our water-skins to hQld more: I therefore went early
with my camel-drivers, to the wells, where I shot two Antelopes.
"We continued at the well to assist our companions who came
in want of water, a duty with which necessity binds us all to
^comply.

We returned near midnight, and found our tents all lighted,
which at that time of night, was uuusuaL I thought, however,
It was on account of my fibsence, and to guide me the surer home.
"We were however surprised, when, coming within a moderate
distance of our tent, we heard the word called for ; 1 answered
immediately, Charlotte ; and, upon our arrival, we perceived the
Turks were parading round the tents in arms, and soon after
our Howadat Arab come to us, and with him a messenger from
Sidi Hassan, the commander of the caravan, desiring me to come
instantly to his tent, while my servants advised me first to bear
what they had to say to me in mine. I soon, therefore, perceiv-
ed that all was not well, and I returned my compliments to Has-
san, adding, that, if he had any thing to say to me so late, be
would do well to come, or send, as it was'past my hour of visit*
ing in the desert, especially as I had not eat, and was tired with
having the charge of the water. I gave orders to my servants
to put out all the extraordinary lights, as that seemed to be a
nark of fear: but forbade any one to sleep, excepting tbote
who had charge of our beasts, and had been fetching the wa-
ter,

I found that while our people had been asleep, two persons
had got into the tent and attempted to steal one of tbe portman-
teaus ; but, as they were chained together, and tbe tent-pole in
the middle, the noise had awakened my servants, who had seis-
ed one of the men ; and that tbe Turks had intended instantly
to have dispatched him with their knives, and with great diffi-
culty had been prevented by my servants, according to my con-
stant orders, for I wishetMo avoid all extremities, upon such oc-
casions, when possible. They had indeed leave to deal with
thea sticks as freely as their prudence suggested to them ; and
they had gone, in this case, fully beyond the ordinary limits of
duirttion, especially, Abdel Gin, who was the first to seise the
robber. In short, they had dealt so liberally with their sticks,
dM tbe thief was only known to be living by his groans, and

The Wonder* of

they bad thrown him at a small distance, tor any person to ovti
him that pleased. It appeared that he was a servant of Sid
Hassan.

There were with me ten servants, all completely armed, twen
ty-five Turks, who seemed worthy to be depended upon, and fou:
Janissaries, who had joined us from Cairo, so that there were o
us forty men perfectly armed, besides attendants on the cattle
As we had people with us who knew the wells, and also a friein
who was acquainted with the Atouni, nothing, even in a desert
could reasonably alarm us. With great difficulty we pulled dowi
an old acacia-tree, and procured some old dried camel's dung
with which we roasted our two antelopes ; very ill-roasted tbej
were ; and execrable meat, though they had been ever so we]
dressed, and had the best sauce of Christendom. However, w
were in the desert, and every thing was acceptable. We hat
some spirits, which finished our repast that night : it was ex
ceedingly cold, and we sat thick about the fire.

Five men with firelocks, and a number of Arabs with lances
having come towards us, aud being challenged by the sentinel fo
not giving the word, were then desired to stand, or they would b
fired upon. They all cried out, Salam Alicum ! i. e. Peace I
between us, and I intimated that any three of them might com
forward, but desired them to keep away the Arabs. Three c
them accordingly came and then two more. They delivered
message from Sidi Hassan, (the captain of the caravan,) that no;
people had killed a man ; they desired that the murderer raigb
be delivered to them, and that I should come to his tent, and se
justice done. " 1 told them that none of my people, howeve
provoked, would put a man to death in my absence, unless in dc
fence of their own lives ; that, if I had been uiere, I should cei
tainly have ordered them to fire upon a thief catched in the ac
of stealing within my tent ; but since he was dead, I was satisfie
as to him, only expected that Sidi Hassan would give me up hi
companion who had fled ; that as it was near morning, 1 shoul
meet him when the caravan decamped, and hear what he bad t
say in his defence. In the mean time I forbade any person t
come near my tent, or quarters, on any pretence whatever, ti.
daylight." Away they went murmuring, and we heard no mor
of them. We since found, that we had stood in the way of
common practice, of stripping these poor strangers, the Turks
who come every year this road to Mecca.

Opposite to where we were encamped is Terfowey, a larg
mountain, partly green marble, partly granite, with a red blus
upon a grey ground, with square oblong spots. About forty yard
within the narrow valley, which separates this mountain from it
neighbour, we saw a part of the fust or shaft of a monstrous obe

.4 **'

JSfatuxB Providence*

liik of marble, very nearly square, broken at the end, and t+*
vards the top. It was nearly thirty feet long, and nineteen fi^t
3* die lace ; about two feet of the bottom were perfectly insulfc-
-oed, aad one whole side* separated from the mountain. The
£pdly had been widened and levelled, and the road made quite
up to underneath the block. We saw likewise, throughout the
plain, small pieces of jasper, having green, white, and red spots,
trailed in Italy, " Diaspo Sanguieno." All the mountains on
lx>tb sides of the plain seemed to be of the same sort.

Feb. 22d, at half past one in the morning, we set out full of
tmr about the Atouni. We continued in a direction nearly
east, till at three we came to the defiles ; but it was so dark, that
it was impossible to • discern of what the country on each side
^consisted. At day break, we found ourselves at the bottom of
a mountain of granite, bare like the former. We saw quanti-
ties of small pieces of various sorts of granite and porphyry,
scattered over the plain, which had been carried down by a tor-
rent, probably from quarries of ancient ages ; these were white,
mixed with black spots ; red, with green veins, *nd black spots.
After this all the mountains on the right hand were of red mar-
ble in prodigious abundance, but of no great beauty. They
continued, as the granite did, for several miles along the road,
while the opposite side was all of dead green, supposed ser-
pentine marble.

[ It was one of the most extraordinary sights I ever saw. The
former mountains were of considerable height, without a tree,
er shrub, or blade of grass upon them, but these now before us
hai all the appearance, the one of having been sprinkled over
with Havanna, the other with Brazil snuff. I wondered, that,
ss the red is nearest the sea, and the ships going down the Abys~
finian coast observes this appearance within lat. 26°, writers
have not imagined this was called die Red Sea upon that account,
| rather than for the many weak reasons they have relied upon.

About eight o'clock we began to descend smartly, and, half an
L boor after, entered into another defile like those beforedescrib-
K *d> having mountains of green marble on every side of us. On
W' <*r left, we saw the highest mountain we had yet passed. We
KL fand it, upon examination, to be composed of serpentine mar-
W Me; and, through about one third of thickness, ran a large
W iriu of jasper, green, spotted with red. Its exceeding hard-
r Vis was such as not to yield to the blows of a hammer j but the
1 *ock* of old times were more apparent in it, than in any moon-
I tarn we had seen. Ducts, or channels, for carrying water trans-
it *ndy; were observed evidently to terminate in this quarry of
I jttper ; a proof that water was one of the means used in cutting
I these bard stones. '

The Wonders of

About ten o'clock, descending very rapidly, with green marble
and jasper on each side of us, but no other green thing whatever,
we had the first prospect of the Red Sea, and, at a quarter past
eleven, we arrived at Cossier. It has been a wonder with all
travellers, and with myself among the rest, where the ancients
procured that prodigious quantity of fine marble, with which all
their buildings abound. Thai wonder, however, among many
others, now ceases, after having passed, in four days, more granite,
porphyry, marble, and jasper, than would build Rome, Athens,
Corinth, Syracuse, Memphis, Alexandria, and half a dozen such
cities. It seemed to be very visible, that those openings on the
hills, which I call Defiles, were not natural, but artificial ; and that
whole mountains had been cut out at these places, to preserve a
slope towards the Nile as gentle as possible; this, I suppose, might
be a descent of about one foot in fifty at most ; so that, from the
mountains to the Nile, those heavy carriages must have moved
with as little draught as possible, and, at the same time, been suf-
ficiently impeded by friction, so as not to run amain, or acquire
an increased velocity, against which, also, there must have been
other provisions contrived. As I made another excursion to
these marble mountains from Cossier, I will, once for all, here
set down what I observed concerning their natural appearance.

The porphyry shews itself by a fine purple sand, without any
gloss or glitter on it, and is exceedingly agreeable to the eye. It
is mixed with the native white sand, and fixed gravel of the plants.
■Green unvariegated marble, is generally seen in the same moun-
tain with the porphyry. Where the two veins meet, the marble
is for some inches brittle, but the porphyry of the same hardness
as in other places.

The granite is covered with sand, and looks like stone of a
dirty brown colour. But this is only the change and impression
the sun and weather have made upon it ; for, upon breaking it,
yon see it is grey grauite, with black spots, with a reddish cast,
-or blush over it. This red seems to fade and suffer from the
outward air, but, upon working or polishing the surface, this co-
lour again appears. It is in greater quantity than the porphyry,
and nearer the Red Sea. Pompey's pillar seems to have been
from this quarry.

Next to the granite, but never, as I observed, joined with it in
the same mountain, is the red marble. It is covered with sand
of the same colour, and looks as if the whole mountain were
spread over with brick dust. There is also a red marble with
white veins, which I have often seen at Rome, but not in prin-
cipal subjects. I have also seen it in Britain. The common green

i called Serpentine) looks as if covered over with Brazil snuff,
oined with this green, I saw two samples of that beautiful mar-

*

Nature and Providence*

95

ble tliey call Isabella ; one of them with a yellowish cast, which
we call Quaker-colour ; the other with a bluish, which is com-
monly termed Dove-colour. These two seem to divide the re-
spective mountains with the serpentine. In this green, likewise,
it was we saw the vein of jasper ; but whether it was absolutely
the same with this which is the bloody jasper, or blood stone,
is what we had not time to settle.

I should first have made mention of the verde antico, the
dark green with white irregular spots, because it is of the great-
est value, and nearest the Nile. This is produced in the moun-
tains of the plain green, or serpentine, as is the jasper, and is
not discoverable by the dust, or any particular colour upon it.
First, there is a blue fleaky stone, exceedingly even and smooth
in the grain, solid, and without sparks or colour. When bro-
ken, h is something lighter than a slate, and more beautiful than
most marble : it is like the lava of volcanoes when polished.
After lifting this, we come to the beds, of verde antico ; and
hoe the quarrying is very obvious, for it has been uncovered
» patches, not above twenty feet square. Then, in another
part, the green stone has been removed, and another pit of it
wrought.

I saw, in several places in die plain, small pieces of African
narble scattered, about, but no rocks or mountains of it. I sup-
pose it is found in the heart of some other coloured marble, and
in strata, Kke the jasper and verde antico, and, I suspect, in the
mountains of Isabella marble, especially of the yellowish sort of
it but this is mere conjecture. This prodigious store of marble
is placed upon a ridge, whence there is a descent to the east or
west, either to the Nile or Red Sea. The level ground and
hard-fixed gravel are proper for the heaviest carriages, and wilt
easily and smoothly convey any weight whatever to its place of
embarkation on the Nile ; so that another wonder ceased, how
the ancients transported those vast blocks of Thebes, Memphis,
and Alexandria."

Cossier, is a small mud-walled village, built upon the shore,
among hillocks of floating sand. It is defended by a square fort
of hewn stone, with square towers in the angles, which have in'
them three small cannon of iron, and one of brass, all in very bad
condition ; of no other use but to terrify the Arabs, and hinder
them from plundering the town when full of corn, going to Mecca
in time of famine. The port is on the south-east of the town.
It is nothing but a rock, which, runs out about four hundred
yards into the Red Sea, and defends the vessels which ride to
the west of it, from the north and north-east winds as the houses,
of the town cover them from the north-west. There is a large

The Wonitto of

inclosure with a high mud wall, and, within, every merchant hat
a shop or magazine for his corn and merchandize.

The caravan from Syene arrived at this time, escorted bjf
four hundred Ababdt, all upon camels, each armed with two
short javelins. The manner of their riding was very whimsical;
they had two small saddles on each camel, and sat back to back,
which might be, in their practice, convenient enough : but, il
they had been to fight with our travellers, every ball would have
killed two of them.

Mr. Bruce now took op his quarters in the castle, and as the
Ababdfe had told strange stories about the mountain of Emeralds,
he determined to make a voyage thither. He chose a man who
had been twice at these mountains of emeralds ; and with the best
boat then in the harbour, on the 14th of March, 1769, they
sailed froni the harbour of Cossier. They kept coasting along,
with a very moderate wind, much diverted with the red and green
appearances of the marble mountain upon the coast. Their ves-
sel had one sail, like a straw matrass, made of the leaves of a kind
of palm tree, which they call Doom. It was fixed above, and
drew up like a curtain, but did not lower with a yard like a sail;
so that upon stress of weather, if the sail was furled, it was so top-
heavy, that the ship must founder, or the mast must be carried
away. But, by way of indemnification, the planks of the vessel
were sewed together, and there was not a nail, nor a piece of iron,
in the whole ship ; so that when you struck upon a rock, seldom
any damage ensued.

On the 15th, Mr. Bruce saw a large- high rock, like a pillar,
rising out of the sea. This island is about three miles from the
shore, of an oval form, rising in the middle. It seems to be ol
granite, and is called hi the language of the country, Jibbel Si-
berget, which has been translated the Mountain of Emeralds,
Siberget, however, is a word in the language of the Shepherds,
who, probably, never in their lives^aw an emerald ; and though
the Arabic translation is Jibbel Zumrud, and that word has bees
transferred to the emerald, a very fine stone, oftener seen since
the discovery of the new world, yet Mr. Bruce very much
doubts, whether either Siberget or Zumrud ever meant emerald
in old times*

Mr. Bruce, having satisfied his curiosity as to these mountains
without having seen a living creature, returned to his boat. They
continued this voyage, and, after encountering storms that were
nearly proving fatal to them, they arrived safe at Cossier. On
the 5th of April, Mr. Bruce, embarked on board a vessel he had
procured for the purpose, and sailed from that port for Jidda. *

On the 6th, they arrived at Tor, a small straggling village, with
^convent of Greek Monks, belongingto MountSinai. It selves

Nature and Providence.

97

is a watering-place for ships going to and from Suez* From this
we have a distinct view of the the points of the mountains Horeb
aod Sinai, which appear behind and above the others, their top*
being often covered with snow in winter.

The ridge of rocks that run along behind Tor, bound that low
sandy country called the desert of Sin, to the eastward. On
the 12th, they passed the island of Tyrone, in the mouth of the
Ehnitic Gulf, which divides it nearly equally into two ; or rather
tknortb-west side is the narrowest. The direction of the gulf is
nearly north and south.

The following singular custom prevails on the Eastern Coast of
the Red Sea, for the preservation of Christians who have the
misfortune to be shipwrecked on that coast. " I would not have
it imagined (says Mr. Bruce) that my case was absolutely des-
perate, even if I had not been known as a Christian, and had fallen
into the hands of the Arabs, of Arabia Deserta, or Arabia Petrea, »
SQpposed to be the most barbarous people in the world, as indeed
they probably are. Hospitality, and attention to one's word,
seem in these countries to be in proportion to the degree in which
> the people are savage. A very easy method is known, and fol-
lowed with constant success, by all the Christians trading to the
Red Sea from Sues to Jidda, to save themselves if thrown on the
coast of Arabia. Any man of consideration from any tribe a-
aong the Arabs, comes to Cairo, gives his name and designation
to the Christian sailor, and receives a very small present, which
is repeated annually if he performs so often the voyage. And for
this the Arab promises the Christian his protection, should he
ever be so unfortunate as to be shipwrecked on their coast.

Tbe Turks are very bad seamen, and lose many ships, the
greatest part of the crew are therefore Christians; when a vessel
strikes, or is ashore, the Turks are all massacred if they cannot
make their way good by force; but the Christians present them-
selves to the Arab, crying Fiarduc, which means, " we are un-
der immediate protection." If they are asked, who is their Gaf-
fer, or Arab, with whom they are in friendship ? They answer,
Mahomet Abdelcatier is our Gv fleer, or any other. If he is not
there, you are told he is absent so many days journey off, or any
distance. This acquaintance or neighbour, then helps you, to
save what you have from the wreck, and one of them with his
force draws a circle, large enough to hold you and yours. He
then sticks his lance in the sand, bids you abide within that cir-
cle, and goes and brings your G a fleer, with what camels you
tint, and this Gaffeer is obliged, by rules known only to them-
selves, to carry you for nothing, or very little, wherever you go,
*pd to furnish you with provisions all the way. Within that
'"tie vou are as safe on the desert coast of Arabia, us in a c\\^

13

98

The Wanders of

del ; there is no example or exception to the contrary that hm
ever yet been known. There are many Arabs, who, from sito*
tion, near dangerous shoals or places, where ships often perkb
• have perhaps fifty or a hundred Christians, who have been m
protected : So that when this Arab marries a daughter, he give?
* perhaps, his revenue from four or five protected Christians, ai
part of his daughter's portion. I had, at that very time, a Gaf
feer, called IbnTalil, an Arab of Harb tribe, and I should havi
been detained perhaps three days till he came from near He
dina, and carried me (had I been shipwrecked) to Yambo,*wben
I was going.

A CONTINUATION OF BRUCE'S TRAVELS.

His account of the way the Israelites fled from Egypt, under Cfc
command of Moses. And the evidence of the Troglydite* q
their crossing the Rtd Sea on its bottom.

As the Scripture teaches us, that this passage, was node
the influence of a miraculous power, no particular circumstance
of breadth, or depth, makes one place likelier than another
The land of Goshen, where the Israelites dwelt in Egypt, w&
that country lying east of the Nile, and not overflowed by it
bounded by the mountains of the Thebaid on the south, by tlx
Nile and Mediterranean on the west and north, and the Rec
Sea and desert of Arabia on the east. It was the Heliopditm
nome, its capital was On ; from predilection of the letter O
common to the Hebrews, they called it Goshen ; but its propel
name was Geshen9 the country of grass or pasturage ; or of tin
Shepherds; in opposition to the rest of the land which was
sown, after having been overflowed by the Nile.

There were three ways by which the children of Israel, flying
from Pharaoh, could have entered Palestine. The first was bj
the sea coast by Gaza, Askelon, and Joppa. This was the
plainest and nearest way ; and, therefore, fittest tyr people in-
cumbered with kneeding troughs, cattle, and children. The
sea-coast was full of rich commercial cities, the mid land wai
cultivated and sown with grain. The eastern part, nearest the
mountains, was full of cattle and shepherds, as rich a country
and more powerful than the cities themselves.

This narrow valley, between the mountains and the sea, rti
all along the eastern shore of the Mediterranean, from Gasi
northward, comprehending the low part of Palestine and Syria
W?ow, here a small number of men ^might have passed, nmta

Nttune aiti Providejict .

99

the laws of hospitality ; nay, they did constantly pas*, h being*
the high road between Egypt and Tyre, and Sydou. But the
<*qie was different with a multitude, such as six hundred thou-
Mad men having their cattle along with them. These must
have occupied the whole land of the Philistines, destroyed all
private property, and undoubtedly have occasioned some revo-
lution ; and as they were not now intended to be put in posses*
won of the land of promise, the measure of the iniquity of the
nations being not yet full, God turned them aside from going
that way, though the nearest, " Lest they should see war.M
Exod. xiii. 17. That is, lest the people should rise against
tbeq, and destroy them.

There was another way which led south-west, upon Beer-
shebra and Hebron, in the middle, between the Dead Sea and
the Mediterranean. This was the direction in which Abraham,
Lot, and Jacob, are supposed to have reached Egypt. But
there was neither food nor water there to sustain the Israelites.
When Abraham and Lot returned out of Egypt, they were
obliged to separate by consent, because Abraham said to his
brother, " The land will not bear us both.'9 Gen. chap. xiii.
6. Exod. xiii. 7.

The third way was straight east into Arabia, pretty much
the road by which the Pilgrims go at this day to Mecca, and
fee caravans from Suez to Cairo, in this track they would
have gone round by the mountains of Moab, east of the Dead
Sea, and passed Jordan in the plain opposite to Jericho, as they
did forty years afterwards. But it is plain from Scripture, that
6od's counsels were to make Pharaoh and his Egyptians an ex-
ample of his vengeance : and, as none of these roads led to the
tea, they did not answer the Divine intention.

About twelve leagues from the sea, there was a narrow road
which turned to the right, between the mountaius, through a
valley* called Badeah, where their course was nearly southeast;
this valley ended in a pass, between two considerable mountains,
called Gewoube on the south ; and Jibbel Attakah on the north,
and opened into the low stripe of country which runs all along
the Red Sea ; and the Israelites were ordered to encamp at
Pihahirotb, opposite to Baal-zephon, between Migdol and that
sea.

It will be necessary to explain these names. Badeah, Dr.
Shaw interprets, the Valley of the miracle, but this is forcing an
etymology, for there was yet no miracle, wrought, nor was there
ever any in the valley. But Badeah, means barren, hare, and
uninhabited; such as we may imagine a valley between stony
mountains, a desert valley. Jibbel Jlttakah* he translates also,
*b mountain of deltrrranrp. But so far were the Israelite* fr^|'

100

The Woniers ef

being delivered on their arrival at this mountain, that they wei
then in the greatest distress and danger. Attakdh, means, hoi
ever, to arrive, or come up with, either because there they arri
ed within sight of the Red Sea ; or, as I am rather inclined i
think, this place took its name from the ' arrival of Pharaoh, <
his coming in sight of the Israelites, when encamped betww
Migdol and the Red Sea.

Pihahiroth is the mouth of the valley, opening to the' i
country and the sea ; as I have already said, such are call*
Mouths ; in the Arabic, Fvm ; as I have observed in my joo
ney to Cossier, where the opening of the valley is called Fum
Beder, the movth of Beder ; Fum el Terfowey, the mouth
Terfowey. Hhoreth, the flat country along the Red Sea, is j
called from" H hor9 a narrow valley where torrents run, occi
sioned by sudden irregular showers. Such we have alreac1
described on the east side of the mountains, bordering upc
that narrow flat country along the Red Sea, where temporal
showers fall in great abundance, while none of them touch tl
west side of the mountains or valley of Egypt. Pihabiro
then is the mouth of the valley Badeah ; which opens to Hh<
reth, the narrow stripe of land where showers fall.

Baal-Zephon, the God of the watch-tower, was probabl;
seme idol's temple, which served for a signal house upon tl
cape which forms the north entrance of the bay opposite
Jibbel Attakah, where there is still a mosque, or saint's torn
It was probably a light house, for the direction of ships goir
to the bottom of the gulf, to prevent mistaking it for anoth
foul bay, under the high land, where there is also a tomb of
saint called Abou Derage.

The last rebuke God gave to Pharaoh, by slaying all tl
first-born, seems to have made a strong impression upon tl
Egyptians. Scripture says, that the people were now urge
with the Israelites to be gone, for they said, " We be all dei
men." Exod. xii. 33. Ai d we need not doubt, it was in o
der to keep up in their hearts a motive of resentment, stron
enough to make them pursue the Israelites, that God caused tl
Israelites to borrow, and takeaway the jewels of the Egyptian)
without some now cause of anger, the late terrible chastiseme
might have deterred them. While, therefore, tlcy journey*
eastward towards the desert, the Egyptians had no motive \
attack them, because they went with permission there to sacr
fice, and were on their return to restore them their mov
ables.* But when the Israelites were observed turning to tl

* Mr, Bruce's conjecture, that the children of Israel were upoo thi

«lurn to restore the jewels, &c, they had borrowed of tho Egyptians,
doubtedly, ycry ingenious ; but it may be necessary to observe, th

.Vaiurt ftud Providence.

1M1

«outb, among the mountains, they were then supposed to flee
without a view of returning, because they had left the way of
the desert ; and therefore Pharaoh, that he might induce the
Egyptians to follow them, tells them that the Israelites were
now entangled among the mountains, and the wilderness be-
hind them, which was really the case, when they encamped at
Flhahiroth, before, or south of Baal-Zephon, between Migdol
and the sea* Here, then, before Migdol, the sea was divided,
and they passed over dry shod to the wilderness of Shur, which
was immediately opposite to.them ; a space something less than
ftnr leagues, and so easily accomplished in one night.

Three days they were without water, which would bring
diem to Korondel, where is a spring of brackish, or bitter wa-
ter, to this day, which probably were the waters of Marah*

The natives still call this part of the sea Bahar Kolium or
the sea of Destruction ; and just opposite to Pihahiroth is a
bay, where the North Cape is called Ras Musa, or the Cape of
Moses, even now. These are the reasons why I believe the pas-
sage of the Israelites to have been in this direction. There is
about fourteen fathom of water in the channel, and about nine
in the sides, and good anchorage every where ; the farthest side
is a low sandy coast, and a very easy landing place.

It was proposed/to Mr. Niebuhr, when in Egypt, to inquire,
upon the spot, Whether there were not some ridges of rocks,
where the water was shallow, so that an army at particular times
might pass over ? Secondly, Whether the Etesian winds, which
blow strongly all summer from the north west, could not blow
so violently against the sea, as to keep it back on a heap, so that
the Israelites might have passed without a miracle ? And a copy
of these queries was left for me, to join my inquiries likewise.

But 1 must confess, however learned the gentlemen were, who
proposed these doubts, I did not think they merited any atten-
tion to solve them. This passage is told us, by scripture, to be
a miraculous one ; and if so, we have nothing to do with natu-
ral causes. If we believe in God that he made the sea, we must
believe he could divide it when he sees proper reason, and of
that he must be t'ae only judge. It is no greater miracle to di-
vide the R-»d Sea, than to divide the river of Jordan.

the? Hebrew word Sop, signifies, (not to borrow) but, To ask, request,
mndt require : And in this sense it muM be understood, Exod. iii. 22. —
»i. 2.— mi, 35, 30. Tlic Egy ptians had reduced the Israelites to a state of
a*>ject slavery Tor many years ; but when the oppressed people, (by the di-
▼ine command) requested a part of the wages justly due to them, the proud
grants were so terrified by the judgments of the Almighty, that they were
impelled to be houest, and grant the children of Israel their demands

* S«ck is th* traditi n among; the native

The Winders of

If the Etesian1 wind blowing from the north-west in summer
trould heap up the sea as a wall, on the right, or to the south, of
fifty feet high, still the difficulty would remain, of building the
wall on the left hand, or to the north. Besides, water standing
in that position for a day, must have lost the nature of fluid*
Whence came that cohesion of particles, that hindered that wall
to escape at the sides ? This is as great a miracle as that of Mo-
ses. If the Etesian winds had done this once, they must have
repeated it many a time before and since, from the same causes.
Yet, Diodorus Siculus says,, the Troglodytes, the indigenous in-
habitants of that very spot, had a tradition froto father to soo,
from their very earliest and remotest ages, that once this divis-
ion of the sea, did happen there, and that after leaving its bot-
tom some time dry, the sea again came back, and covered it
with great fury. The words of this author are of the most.re-
markable kind. We cannot think this heathen is writing in fa-
vour of revelation. He knew not Moses, nor says a word about
Pharaoh, and his host ; but records the miracle of the division
of the sea, iu words nearly as strong as those of Moses, from the
mouths of unbiassed, undesigning Pagans.

The cause of the several names of the Red Sea, is a subject
of more liberal inquiry. I am of opinion, that it certainly dep-
rived its name from Edom, long and early its powerful master,
that word signifying Red in Hebrew. It formerly went by the
name of the Sea of Edom, or Idumea ; since, by that of the
Red Sea.

It has been observed, indeed, that not only the Arabian Gulf,
but part of the Indian Ocean, went by this name, though
far distant from Idumea. This is true, but when we consider,
that the masters of that sea were still the Edomites, who went
from the one sea directly in the same voyage to the other, we
shall not dispute the propriety of extending the name to pari of
the Indian Ocean also. As for what fanciful people* have said
of any redness in the sea itself, or colour in the bottom, the
reader may assure himself all this is fiction, the Red Sea being
in colour nothing different from the Indian, or any other Ocean.

There is greater difficulty in assigning a reason for the He-
brew name, Yam Suph : properly so called, say learned author*,
from the quantity of weeds in it. But I must confess, in con-
tradiction to this, that I never in my life, (and I have seen the
w hole extent of it) saw a weed of any sort in it ; and, indeed,
upon the slightest consideration, it will occur to any one, that a
narrow gulf, under the immediate influence of monsoons, blow-
ing from contrary points six months each year, would have too

#. Jovw* f. \hn *rrvalt>*l liar of the .J<««i;iK < h. iv. p. 4fi. English trunjlafimK

Nature and Providences

much agitation to produce such vegetables, seldom found, but in
stagnant waters, and seldomes, if ever, found in salt ones. My
opinion then is, that it is from the* large trees, or plants of white
coral, spread every where over the bottom of the Rt d Sea, per*
ftctly in imitation of plants on land that the sea has obtained
this name. If not, I fairly confess I have not any other conjec-
ture to make.

A continuation of Mr. Bruce' s Travels through the Desert of
Nubia to Egypt.

Mr. Bruce entered the kingdom of Abyssinia by the way of
Masuah, an island in the Red Sea, in the latter end of the year
1769, in order to discover the Source of the Nile. Having ac-
crinplished the object of his perilous undertaking, be left Abys-
sinia in January, 1772, and returned to Egypt through Atbara,
and the great Desert of Nubia. The difficulties he had to en-
counter in the Desert, not only bring us acquainted with that
horrible country, but also illustrate the providential care of the
Almighty over his creatures, in their greatest extremity and dan-
ger. Mr. Bruce arrived at Sennaar, the capital of Nubia, April
SO : having narrowly escaped from being robbed and murder-
ed by the Shekh or governor of Teawa. At Sennaar he was de-
tained till the beginning of Sept. soliciting, in vain, for assistance
from the king to enable him toVross the Desert to Egypt. Here
he became acquainted with Mahomet To wash, a person of conse-
quence, being one of the black Eunuchs whose services are de-
feated to the Temple at Mecca. Mr. Bruce cured Towash of
a dangerous intermitting fever, and the Eunuch expressed much
gratitude on this occasion, and engaged to take our traveller
with him to Egypt. This was looked upon as a most favour-
able circumstance, but the scheme was defeated by the cruelty
of the King of Sennaar, who prevailed with the Eunuch to set
out upon his journey unknown to Mr. Bruce, and leave him to
perish at Sennaar, or in the Desert. This was a heavy disap-
pointment, but in the end proved, under the direction of Pro-
^dence, the means of Mr. Bruce's preservation, and the destruc-
tion of the treacherous Mahometan. On the 4th of October,
Mr. Bruce arrived at Chendi, on the borders of the great De-
Here he found that Mahomet Towash had taken all the
Hybeers, or guides of note, with him, on purpose lo disappoint
^4t. Bruce, who with great difficulty procured one to accompa-
ny him on the journey. f

% I *aw one of these, which, froni a root nearly central, t!::^»v out nuniticulioiw u

circular form, measuriug twenty -vis f«ct diameter evrry way.
* A Htsiib, is a Guido, wh<we office if to conduct the Cararwi* ihrtiugh

104

The Wonders oj

October 20. Mr. Bruce left Chendi, his company consisted
of Idris their guide ; [smael, an pld Turkish Janissary ; three
Greek servants, two Barbarins, and a young man a relation of
Idris's. They likewise reluctantly admitted into their company
six of the Tucorory ; being afraid they should be reduced to the
disagreeable necessity of seeing them die with thirst before their
eyes. They filled four girbas* with water, which altogether
contained a hogshead and a half. Their food consisted of
twenty-two goat's skins stuffed with a powder of bread made of
dora. They pursued their journey in the Desert tijl the 14lh
of November, when they met with the moving Pillars of Sand,
and the Simoom.

" On the 17th of November, (says Mr. Bruce) we left the
valley and pool of Chiggre. At 1 1 o'clock we were again ter-
rified by an army of Sand Pillars, whose march was i onstandy
sonth, and the favourite field which they occupied was that
great circular space which the Nile makes when opposite to
Assa Nagga, where it turns west to Korti and Dongola. At
one time a number of these pillars faced to the eastward, and
seemed to be coming directly upon us ; but, though they were
little nearer us than two miles, a considerable quantity of sand
fell round us. I began now to be somewhat reconciled to this
phenomenon, seeing it had hitherto done us no harm. The
great magnificence it exhibited in its appearance, seemed, in
some measure, to indemnify us for the panic it had occasioned:
But it was otherwise with the simoom ; we all of us were firmly
persuaded that another passage of the purple meteor over us
would be attended with our deaths.

At half past four we alighted in a vast plain, bounded on all
sides by low sandy hills, which seemed to have been transport-
ed hither lately. These hillocks were from seven to thirteen
feet high, drawn into perfect cones, with very sharp points and
well-proportioned bases. The sand was of an inconceivable
fineness, having been the sport of hot winds for thousands of
years. There could be no doubt that the day before, when h
was calm, and we suffered so much by the simoom between El
Mout and Chiggre, the wind had been raising pillars of sand in
this place, called Umdoom ; marks of the whirling motion of

They are men of great consideration, know:ng perfectly the situation and properties of
all kinds of water to be met with on the rout?, the distance of wells, the plat es occupied
by the simoom, or burning wind?, and the seasons of their blowing in those \ arts ; like-
wise those occupied by moving sands.

• A Girba is an oi's skin squared, and the edge* sewed together by a doable seam,
which does not let out water. An opening is left in the top or this Girba ; around tfaib
. Jhe skin is gathered to the size of a large handful, * hich when the Girba is full of water,
is tied round wiih whipcord. Two of these Git baft are the load of a camel. They are
bwmearH on rli«? oul«id» M-ith errea«e. to prevent the «»vnnoratiouorooxinar of the water.

Nature and Proqidjuice.

105

ike pillars were distinctly seen in every heap, so that here
again, while we were repining at the simoom, Providence was
busied keeping us out of the way of another scene, where, if,
we had advanced a day, we had all of us been involved in in-
evitable destruction.

On the 16th we passed through a sandy plain, without trees
or verdure. About three hundred yards (out of our way,) to the
left, among some sandy hillocks, where the ground seems to be
more elevated than the rest, Idris the guide told me, that one of the
largest caravans which ever came out of Egypt, under the con-
duct of the Ababde and the Bishareen Arabs, was there cover-
ed whh sand, to the number of some thousands. At ten o'clock
we alighted at a place where are some trees, to feed our camels.
The trees which the camels eat, are a kind of dwarf acacia,
growing only to the height!) of bushes ; at five o'clock we alight-
ed in the wood, which is a station of the Bishareen in the sum-
mer months ; but these people were now east of us, three days
journey, towards the Red Sea, where the rains had fallen, and
there was plenty of pasture. In the evening we alighted in
a wood, called Terfowey, full of trees and grass. The trees
are the tallest and largest we had seen since leaving the Nile.
We had this day enjoyed, as it were, a holiday, free from the
terrors of the sand, or dreadful influence of the simoom. This
poisonous wind had made several attempts to prevail this day,
bat was always overpowered by a cool breeze at north.

On the 19th we left the wood, and in the evening arrived at
the well. It is about four fathoms deep, but the spring not ve-
ry abundant. We drained it several times, and were obliged to
wait its filling again. These last two days, we had seen more
verdure than we had altogether since we left Barbar. The
acacia trees are tall and verdant, but the mountains on each
ride appear black and barren beyond imagination.

As soon as we alighted at Terfowey, and had chosen a pro-
per place where our camels could feed, we unloaded our bag-
gage near them, and sent the men to clean the well, and wait
the filling of the skins. We had lighted a large fire. The.
nights were excessively cold, though the thermometer was at
53* : and that cold occasioned me inexpressible pain in my feet,
now swelled to a monstrous size, and every where inflamed and
excoriated. I had taken upon me the charge of the baggage,
and Mahomet, Idris's young man, the care of the camels ; but
he too was gone to the well, though he expected to return im-
mediately.

Our camels were always chained by the feet, and the chain
secured by a padlock, lest they should wander in the night, or
he liable to be stolen and carried off. Musinar upon some gep*

14

106

% The Winders of

graphical difficulties which then occurred, and gazing befor
me, without any particular intention or suspicion, I heard tb
chain of the camels clink, as if somebody was unloosing then
and then, at the end of the gleam made by the fire, I saw dL
tinctly a man pass swiftly by, stooping as he went along, h
face almost to the ground. A little time after this I heard ai
other clink of the chin, as if from a pretty sharp blow, and itr
mediately after a movement among the camels. 1 then ros>
and cried in a threatening tone in Arabic, " I charge you c
your life, whoever you are, either come up to me directly, a
kfeep at a distance till day, but come that way no more ; wfc
should yon throw your life away ?" In a minute after, he rfepaai
ed in the shade among the trees, pretty much in the manner I
had done before. I advanced some steps, as far as the light
the fire shone, on purpose to discover how many there wen
and was ready to fire upon the next I saw. " Lf you are ■
honest man, cried I aloud, and want any thing, come up to C
fire and fear not, I am alone ; but if you approach the enmm
or the baggage again, the world will not be able to save yon
life, and your blood be upon your own head." Mahon-a
Idri&'s nephew, who heard me, came running up from the w—
to see what was the matter. We went down together to whe
the camels were, and, upon examination, found that the lima
of one of the chains had been broke, but the opening not lar
enough to let the corresponding whole link through to sepr
rate it. A hard blue stone was driven through a link of one
the chains of another camel, and left sticking there, the chm
not being entirely broken through ; we saw, besides, the pr*
of a man's feet on the sand. There was uo need to tell us af^
this that we were not to sleep that night ; we made therefie:
another fire on the other side of the camels, with branches
the acacia tree, which we gathered. I then sent the man bvm
to Idris at the well, desiring him to fill his skins with water V
fort it was light, and transport themUp the baggage wher^
was, and to be all ready armed there by the dawn of day ; sow
after which, if the Arabs were sufficiently strong, we were v&
certain they would attack us. This agreed perfectly with Idr5
ideas also, so that, contenting themselves with a lesser quant M
of wator than they first intended to have taken, they lifted
skins upon the camels I sent them, and were at the rendezvo>t-
near t'»e baggage, a little after four in the morning.

The Barbaiins, and, in general, all the lower sort of Mo<?
and Turks, adorn their arms and wrists with amulets ; th^
are eharms, and are some favourite verse of the Koran wrapt
paper, neatly covered with Turkey leather. The two Barb3
rins that were with me had procured for them^ves new orM

Aarwr mjuI Providence.

* Stmnaar, which were to defend them from the simoom and
the sand, and all the dangers of the Desert. That they might
not soil these in filling the water, they had taken them from
their arms, and laid them on the brink of the well before they
*ent down. Upon looking for these after the girhas were fill-
ed, they were not to be found. This doub'e attempt was an in-
dication of a number of people being in the neighbourhood,* in
which case our present situation was one of the most desperate
that could be figured. We were in the middle of the most bar-
ren, inhospitable desert in the world, and it was with the utmost
difficulty that, from day to day, we could carry wherewithal to
assuage our thirst. We had with us the only bread it was pos-
sible to procure for some hundred miles ; lances and swords
were not necessary to destroy us, the bursting or tearing of a
girba, the lameness or death of a camel, a thorn or sprain in
the foot which might disable us from walking, were as certain
death to us as a shot from a cannon. There was no staying
for one another ; to lose time was to die, because, with the ut-
most exertion our camels could make, we scarce could carry
along with us a scanty provision of bread and water sufficient
to keep us alive.

That Desert, which did not afford inhabitants for the assist-
ance or relief of travellers, had greatly more than sufficient for
destroying them. Large tribes of Arabs, two or three thousand,
encamped together, were cantoned, as it were, in different pla-
ces of this Desert, where there was water enough to serve their
numerous herds of cattle, and these, a3 their occasion required,
traversed in parties all that wide expanse of solitude, from the
mountains near the Red Sea cast, to the banks of the Nile on
the west, according as their several designs or necessities re-
quired. These were Jaheleen Arabs, those cruel, barbarous
fanatics, that deliberately shed so much blood during the time
they were establishing the Mahometan religion. Their preju-
dices had never been removed by any mixture of strangers, or
•oftened by society, even with their own nation after they were
polished ; but buried, as it were, in these wild deserts, if they
**ere not grown more savage, they had at least preserved, in
their full vigour, those murdering principles which they had
brought with them into that country, under the brutal and in-
human butcher Kaled Ibn el Waalid, impiously called The
Sword of God. If it should be our lot to fall among these peo-
ple, and it was next to a certainty that we were at that very in-
atant surrounded by them, death was certain, and our only com-
fort was, that we could die but once, and that to die like men
>ras in our own option. Indeed, without considering the bloody
character which these wretches naturally bear, there cpuM bp

T/ic Wonders of

no reason Tor letting us live : we could be of no service to the*,
as slaves ; and to have sent us into Egypt, after having first r^
fled and destroyed our goods, could not be done by them bi
at a great expense, to which well-inclined people only coul
.have been induced from charity, and of that last virtue they ha
not even heard the name. Our only chance then remaining
was, that their number might be so small, that, by our great si
periority in fire arm? and courage, wo might turn the misfortur
upon the aggressors, deprive them of their camels and means <
carrying water, and leave them scattered in the Desert, to tin. *
death which either they or we. without alternative, must suffer —

I explained myself to this purpose, briefly to the people, cm i
which a great cry followed, " God is great ! let them come E_ :
Our arms were perfectly in order, and our old Turk lsmai^=
-seemed to move about and direct with the vigour of a youn 4
man. As we had no doubt they would be mounted on camel^^s
so we placed ourselves a little within the edge of the trees. Tt^a* «
embers of our two fires were on our front ; our tents, baggag^^E!
and boxes, on each side of us, between the opening of the tree^s
our camels and water behind us, the camels being chained tc
gether behind the water, and ropes at their heads, which we^ar~<
tied to trees. A skin of water, and two wooden bowls besid3 «
it, was left open for those that should need to drink. We h^aw~«
finished our breakfast before day-break, and I had given all Ar^<
men directions to fire separately, not together, at the same & ^
of people ; and those who had the blunderbusses to fire whe*
they saw a number of camels and men together, and especial "1 1
at any camels they saw wijjjt girbas upon them, or where the-
was the greatest confusion.

The day broke ; no Arabs appeared ; all was still. T^r<"
danger which occurred to our minds then was, lest, if they we* ^
few, by tarrying we should give them time to send off messe^^-1
gers to bring assistance. I then took Ismael and two ttarbari
along with me, to see who these neighbours of ours could *
We soon traced in the sand the footsteps of the man who ht .■^m
been at our camels ; and, following them behind the point of
rock, which seemed calculated for concealing thieves, we ism—
two ragged, old, dirty tents, pitched with grass cords.

The two Barharins entered one of them, and found a nak^^-
woman th< re. Ismael and I ran briskly into the largest, whe^^^
we saw a man and a woman both perfectly naked, frightful, em ~
ciated figures, not like the inhabitants of this world,
man was partly sitting on his hams ; a child, seemingly of tlr
age to suck, was on a rag at the corner, and the woman look*
as if she wished to hide herself. I sprung forward upon t -
man, and, taking him by the hair of the head, pulled him up

Nature and Providence. 10l>

his back on the floor, setting my foot upon his breast, and point-
ing my knife to his throat ; 1 said to him sternly, " If you
mean to pray, pray quickly for you have but this moment to
five." The fellow was so frightened, he scarce could beg us
to spare his life ; but the woman, as it afterwards appeared, the
mother of the sucking child, did not seem to copy the passive
disposition of her husband ; she ran to the corner of the tent,
where was an old lance, with which, I doubt not, she would
have sufficiently distinguished herself, but it happened to be en-
tangled with the cloth of the tent, and Ismacl felled her to the
ground with the butt-end of his blunderbuss, and wrested the
lance from her. A violent howl was set up by the remain-
fag woman like the cries of those in torment. " Tie them, said
I9 Ismeal ; keep them separate, and carry them to the baggage
till I settle accounts with this camel-stealer, and then you shall
strike their three heads off, where they intended to leave us mis-
erably to perish with hunger ; but keep them separate.'1 While
the Barbarins were tying the woman, the one that was the nurse
of the child turned to her husband, and said, in a most mourn-
ful, despairing tone of voice, " Did I not tell you, you would
never thrive if you hurt that good man ? did not I tell you this
Would happen for murdering the Aga ?"

Our people had come to see what had passed, and I sent the
Women away, ordering then to be kept separate, out of the hear-
ing of one another, to judge if their answers did not prevaricate.
The woman desired to have her child with her, which I granted*
The little creature, instead of being frighted, crowed, and held
out its little hands as it passed me. We fastened the Arab with
the chain oC the camels, and so far was well ; but still we did
not know how near the Bishareen might be, nor who these were,
nor whether thev had sent off any intelligence in the night.
Until we were informed of this, our case was little mended.'
tTpon the man's appearing, all my people declared, with one
general voice, that no time was to be lost, but that they should
^11 be put to death as soon as the camels were loaded, before
We set out on our journey ; and, indeed at first view of the
thing, self preservation, the first law of nature, seemed strongly
to require it. Hagi Ismacl was so determined on the execution
that he was already seeking a knife sharper than his own. " We
Will stay, Hagi Ismael, said I, till we see if this thief is a liar
^feo. If he prevaricates in the answers he gives to my ques-
tions, yon shall then cut his head off, and we will consign him
With the ne in his mouth, soul and body to hell, to his master
Whom he serves." Ismeal answered, " The truth ; is the truth ;
*f he lies, he can deserve no better."

The reader will easily understand the necessity of my speak-

110

XViC Wonders of

ing at that moment in terms not only unusual lor a Christian,
but even in any society or conversation ; and if the ferocity
and brutality of the discourse should shock any, they will re
member, that these were intended to produce fear in those up
on whom we had no other tie, and thereby extort a confessioi
of the truth ; which might answer two purposes, the saving
the effusion of their blood, and providing for our own preserv
ation. " You see, said I, placing the man upon his knees, you
time is short, the sword is now drawn which is to make an en<
of you, take time, answer distinctly and deliberately, for thi
first trip or lie that you make, is the last word that you wil
utter in this world. Your wife shall have her fair chance like
wise, and your child ; you and all shall go together, unless yol
tell me the naked truth. Here, Ismael, stand by him, and tab
my sword, it is, I believe, the sharpest in the company."

" Now I ask you, at your peril, Who was the good man youi
wife reproached you with having murdered ? He answercc
trembling, and indistinctly, through fear, " It was a black, ai
Aga from Chendi." " Mahomet Towash," says lsbmael
" The same," says the Bishareen. He then related the parti-
culars of his death. " Where is the Bishareen, continued I ;
where is Abou Bertran ? how soon will a light camel and mes-
senger arrive where he now is ?" " In less than two days ;
perhaps, says he, in a day and a half, if he is very diligent and
the camel good." " Where did you and your women come
from, and when ?" " From Abou Bertran, says he ; we arriv-
ed here at noon on the fifth day, but the camels were all she
camels ; they are favourite camels of Shekh Seide ; we drove
them softly ; the two you saw at the tents are lame ; besides
there were some others unsound ; there were also women and
children." " Where did that party, and their camels, go tc
from this ? and what number of men was there with them ?"—
There were about three hundred camels of all sorts, and abonl
thirty men, all of them servants ; some of them had one lance,
and some of them two ; they had no shields or other arms."—
i4 What did you intend last night to do with my camels ?" " 1
intended to have carried them, with the women and child, to
join the party at the Nile." " What 'must have become of as
in that case ? we must have died ?" " Why, certainly, says
he, you must have died, you could not live, you could not go
any where else." " If another party had found us here, in that
case would they have slain us f " He hesitated a little, then,
as if he recollected himself, said, " Yes, surely, they murdered
the Aga, and would murder any body that bad not a Bishareen
with them." " Now attend and understand me distinctly, said
I. for upon these two questions hangs your life : Do you know

Ill

tfamy party of Bishareens who are soon to pass here, or any
well* to the north, and in what number ? and have yon sent
lBj intelligence since last night you saw us here ?" He an-
. iwered, with more readiness than usual, " We have sent tfpbo-
' dy any where ; our camels are lame ; we were to follow, as
soon as they could be able to travel, to join those at the Nile.
The parties of the Bishareen are always passing here, sometimes
more, sometimes less ; they will not come till they hear from
the Nile whether the grass is grown. They have with them
two dromedaries, who will carry the news from the Nile in three
days, or they will come in small parties like the last, for they
lave no fear in these parts. The wells to the north belong to
the Ababde. When they pass by them with cattle they are al-
ways in great numbers, and a Shekb along with them ; but
these wells are now so scanty that they have not water for any
Bomber, and they must therefore all pass this way."

I got up, and called on Ismael. The poor fellow thought
he was to die. Life is sweet even to the most miserable. He
was still upon his knees, holding his hands clasped round the
back of his neck,- and already, I suppose, thought he felt the
edge of Ismael's knife. He swore that every word he had spo-
ken was truth ; and if his wife was brought she could not tell
soother story.

I thereupon left him, and went to his wife, who, when she saw
Hagi Ismael with a drawn sword in his hand, thought all was
o?er with her husband, and fell into a violent fit of despair, cry-
*ing out, " That all the men were liars and murderers, but that
she would have told the truth if I had asked her first." " Then
go, Hagi Ismael, said I, tell them not to put him to death till T
come, and now you have your chance, which if you do not im-
prove by telling the truth, I will first slay your child with my
own hand before your face, and then order you all to be put to
death together." She began with great earnestness to say,
" She could not tell who killed Mahomet Towash, for she only
heard it in conversation from her husband, who was there, after
he bad come home." I then put the questions to her that I had
done to her husband, and had precisely the same answers ; but
fteing me rise to go away* she burst out into a flood of tears,
and tore her hair in the most violent excess of passion : shriek-
ing out to have mercy upon her, and pressing the little child to
|wr breast as if to take leave of it, then lay ing it down before me
in great agony and bitterness of heart, she again shrieked out.
14 If you are a Turk, make it a slave, but do not kill my child,
--and spare my husband/7

Though I understood Arabic well, I did not, till that day.
know it had such powers, or that it contained expressions nt

112

The Wonders tf

once so forcible and so simple. I found myself so much rao*
ed, and my tears came so fast, that it was in vain to endeavou
to carry on a farce under such tragical appearances. " Wc
mant^said I, I am not a Turk, nor do I make slaves, or Id
children. It is your Arabs that force me to this ; it was yo
that attacked me last night, it was you that murdered MahouM
Towash, one of your own religion, and busied in his duty,
am a stranger, seeking my own safety, but you are all murdei
ers and thieves." — " It is true, says she, they are all raurderei
and liars, and my husband, not knowing, may have lied toe
Only let me hear what he told you, and I will tell you wbethc
it is truth or not." Day was now advancing apace, and n
resolution taken, whilst our present situation was a very unsaf
one.

I stated fairly, in a council held among ourselves, the horrq
of slaughtering the women and child, or even leaving them to
starve with hunger by killing their camels, from whom the;
got their only sustenance ; for, though we should not stall
our hands with their blood, it was the same thing to leavi
them to perish : that wc were strangers, and had fallen upoi
them by accident, but they were in their own country. Ou thi
contrary, suppose we only slew the man, any of the womei
might mount a camel, and, travelling with diligence, might in
form the Bishareen, who would send a party and cut us off a
the next well, where we must pass, and where it would beim-
possible to escape them. I must say, there was a considerabb
majority for sparing the women and child, and not one bat wh<
willingly decreed the death of the man, who had confessed b<
was endeavouring to steal our camels, and that he intended tc
carry them to his party at the Nile ; in which case the loss oi
our lives was certain, as we should have been starved to death
or murdered by the Arabs.

The very recital of this attempt so euraged Hagi Ismael thai
he desired he might h <ve the preference in cutting off his head.
Indeed every one's opinion was, that the Arab should die, and
especially since the account of their behaviour to Mahomet
Towash, whose death, for my own part, I cannot say I thought
raypelf under any obligation to revenge. " Since you are dif-
fering in your opinions, and there is no time to lose, said I, al-
low me to give m;ne. It ha* appeared to me, that often, since
we began this journey, we have been preserved by visible instan-
ces of God's protection, when we should have lost our lives ii
we had gone by the rules of our own judgment. We are, it is
true, of different religions, but all worship the same God. Sup-
pose the present case should be a trial, whether we trust really
in God's protection, or whether we believe our safety owing to

iVature anil Providaiu,*

owv owu foresight and courage. If the man's lile be now ta-
ken away, to-morrow we may meet the Bishareen, and then we
shall all reflect upon the folly of our precaution. For my own
part, my constant creed is, that I am in God's hands, whether
in the house or in the desert ; and not in those of any lawless
spoiler. I have a clear conscience, arid am engaged in no un-
lawful pursuit, seeking on foot my way home, feeding on bread
and water, and hive done no wrong to any man. We are well
armed, are nine in number, and have twice as many firelocks,
many of these with double-barrels, and others of a size never
before seen by Arabs, armies of whom have been defeated with
fewer : we are ragged and tattered in our clothes, and no prize
to any one. But this I declare to you, if ever we meet these
Arabs, if the ground is such as has been near all the welfc we
have come to, I will fight them boldly and cheerfully, without
a doubt of beating them. I do not say my feelings would be
the same if my conscience was loaded with that most heinous
and horrid crime, murder in cold blood ; and therefore my de-
termination is to spare the life even of this man."

It was easy to see, that fear of their own lives only, "and not
cruelty, was the reason they sought that of the Aral). They
answered m-, two or three of them at once, c< That it was all
very well ; what should they do ? should they give themselves,
np to the Bisharecn, and be murdered like Mahomet Towash ?
was there any other way of escaping ?" *• I will tell you, then,
Mnce you a«k mc what you should do : You shall follow the
duty of self-defence and self-preservation, as far as you can do
it without .a crime. You shall leave the women and the child
where they arc, and with them the camels, to give them and
their child milk ; you shall chain the husband's right hand to
the left of some of yours, and you shall each of you take him
by turns till we shall carry him into Egypt. Perhaps lie knows
the desert and the wells better than Idris ; and if he should not,
still we have two guides instead of one ; and who can foretell
*hat may happen to Idris more than to any other of us ? But
as ho knows the stations of his people, and their courses at par-
ticular seasons, that day we meet one Bisharecn, the man that
i? chained with him, and conducts him, shall instantly stab him
to the heart, so that he shall not see, much less triumph in, the
^access of his treachery. On the contrary, if he is faithful, and
informs Idris where the danger is, and where we are to avoid
"» on the day I arrive safe in Eirypt I will clothe him anew, as
&l*o his women, give him a good camel for himself, and a load
ofdora for them all. As for the camels we leave here, they
are ^he-ones, and nccc^arv to give the women food. They arc
lame, ii -aid. but "n -hall lame them i" ''arncsf? that

1o

The Wander* uf

they shall not be able to carry a messenger to the Bisbaree
before they die with thirst in the way, both they and their ri
ders, if they should attempt it."

An universal applause followed this speech ; Idris, above all
declared his warmest approbation. The man and the woma
were qent for, and had their sentence repeated them. Thei
all subscribed to the conditions cheerfully ; and the womai
declared she would as soon see her child die, as be an instrn
ment of any harm befalling us, and that, if a thousand Bisha
reens should pass, she knew how to mislead them all, and tha
n«ne of them should follow us till we were far out of danger.91

I sent two Barbarins to lame the camels effectually, but no
so as to make diem past recovery. After which, for the nurn
and the child'9 sake, I took twelve handfuls of the bread whicl
was our only food, and indeed we could hardly spare it, as wi
saw afterwards, and left it to this miserable family, with thL
agreeable reflection, however, that we should be to them in the
end a much greater blessing than in the beginning we had beet
an affliction, provided only they kept their faith, and on tbeu
part deserved it.

On the 20th, we left the well at Terfowey, after having
warned the women, that their chance of seeing their husbanc
again depended wholly upon his and their faithful conduct
We took our prisoner with us, his right hand being chained tc
the left of one of the Barbarins. We had no sooner got int<
the plain than we felt great symptoms of the simoom, and aboui
a quarter before twelve, our prisoner first, and then Idris, criec
out, The Simoom ! the Simoom ! My curiosity would not suf-
fer me to fall down without looking behind me. About du<
south, a little to the east, I saw the coloured haze as before. I
seemed now to be rather less compresed, and to have with it i
rfbade of blue. The edges of it were not defined as those 01
the former, but like a very thin smoke, with about a yard k
the middle tinged with those colours. We all fell upon oui
faces, and the simoom passed with a gentle ruffling wind. Ii
continued to blow in this manner till near three o'clock, so wc
were all taken ill that night, and scarcely strength was left us
to load the camels and arrange the baggage. This day one ol
our camels died, partly famished, partly overcome by eltremc
fatigue, so that, incapable as we were of labour, we were
obliged, for self-preservation's sake, to cut off thin slices of the
fleshy part of the camel, and bang it in so many thongs upon
the trees all night, and after upon the baggage, the sun drying
it immediately, so as to prevent putrefaction.

Ib the evening we alighted at a well called Naibey, in a bare,
sandy pltin, where there were a few straggling acacia-trees*—

We had all this day seen large blocks of fossile salt upon the
surface of the earth where we trod. This was the cause, I
suppose, that both the spring at Terfowey, and now this of
Naibey, were brackish to the taste, and especially that of Nai-
bey. We found near the well the corpse of a man and two
camels upon the ground. It was apparently long ago that this
accident happened, for the moisture of the camel was so exha-
led (hat it seemed to weigh but a very few pounds ; no vermin
had touched it, as in this whole desert there is neither worm, fly,
nor any thing that has the breath of life.

On the 21st of November, having filled our girbas with wa-
ter, we set out from Naibey, our direction due north, and as we
thought, in a course almost straight upon Syene. The first hour
of our journey was through sharp pointed rocks, which it was
very easy to foresee would soon finish our camels. About eight
we had a view of die desert to the westward as before, and saw
the sands had already begun to rise in immense twisted pillars,
which darkened the heavens. The rising of these in the morn-
ing so early, we began now to observe, was a sure sign of a
hot day, with a brisk wind at north ; and that heat, and die ear-
ly rising of the sands, was a sure sign of its falling calm about
aid-day, and its being followed by two hours of the poisonous
wind. This last consideration was what made the greatest im-
pression, for we had felt its effects ; it had filled us with fear,
and absorbed the last remnant of our strength ; whereas the
sand, though a destruction to us if it had involved us in its com-
pass, had as yet done us no other harm than terrifying us the
first days we had seen it.

It was this day more magnificent than any we had as yet seen.
The sun shining through the pillars, which were thicker, and
contained more sand apparently than any of the preceding days,
seemed to give those nearest us an appearance as if spotted with
stars of gold. I do not think at any time they seemed to be
nearer than two miles. The most remarkable circumstance
was, that the sand seemed to keep in that vast circular space
surrounded mbf the Nile on our left, in going round by Chaigie
towards Dongola, and seldom was observed much to the east-
ward of a meridian, passing along the Nile through the Magi-
ran, before it takes that turn ; whereas the Simoom was always
on the opposite side of our course, coming upon us from the
with east.

A little before twelve the wind at north ceased, and a consid-
erable quantity of fine sand rained upon us, for an hour after-
wards. At the time it appeared, the description of this phse-
uomenon in Syphax's speech to Cam was perpetually befoffe
my mind.—'

The Wonders of

So, where our wide Numidian wastes extend.

Sudden the impetuous hurricanes descend,

Wheel through the air, in circling eddies play,

Tear up the sands, and sweep whole plains away.

The helpless traveller, with wild surprise, } 4.

Sees the dry desert all around him rise, >

And smother'd in the dusty whirlwind dies. )

The Simoom, witfi the wind at S. E. immediately followe
the wind at N. and the usual despondency that always accompc
nied it. The blue meteor, with which it began, passed over u
about twelve, and the ruffling wind that followed it continue
till near two. Silence, and a desperate kind of indifferenc
about life, were the immediate effects upon us ; and I bega
now, seeing the condition of my camels, to fear we were a
doomed to a sandy grave, and to contemplate it with some dc
gree of resignation. In the evening we alighted in a sand
flat, where there was great store of bent grass- and trees whtc
had a considerable degree of verdure, a circumstance much i
favour of our camels. We determined to stop here to give thei
an opportunity of eating their fill where they could find it.

On the 22d, we sat out from the 9andy flat : one of the Tc
eorory was seized with a phrenzy or madness. I offered t
bleed him which he refused ; neither, though we gave him w?
ter would he drink, but very moderately. He rolled upon th
ground, and moaned. He refused to continue his journey, c
rise from where he lay, so that we were obliged to leave bin
We went but this day very diligently, but though our came:
had fared well for these two nights, another of them died whe
we came to Umarack.

I here began to provide for the worst. I saw the fate of on
camels approaching,. and that our men crew weak in propoi
tion ; our bread, too, began to fail us, although we had plent
of camels flesh in it$ stead; our water, though in all appearanc
we were to find it more frequently than in the beginning of o«
journey, was nevertheless brackish,' and scarce served the pui
ose to quench our thirst ; and, above all, the dreadful Simooi
ad perfectly exhausted our strength, and brought upon us
degree of cowardice and languor that we struggled with in vain
I therefore as the last effort, began to throw away every thin
weighty I could spare, or that was not absolutely necessary
such as all shells, fossiles, minerals, and petrefactions that I coul
get at, the counter-cases of my quadrant, telescopes, and clod
and several such like things.

Our camels were now reduced to five, and it did not seei
that these were capable of continuing their journey much lor

J\atitrt and Frevidwt*,

{per. lo that case, no remedy remained, but that each man
should carry his own water and provisions. Now, as no one
man could carry the water he should use between well and well,
and it was more than probable that distance would be doubled
by some of the wells feeing found dry ; and if that was not
the case, yet, as it was impossible for a man to carry his pro-
visions who could not walk without any burden .at all, our situ-
ation seemed to be most desperate.

The Bishareen alone seemed to keep up his strength, and
was in excellent spirits. He had attached himself, in a partic-
ular manner, to me, and with a part of that v^ry scanty rag
which he had round his waist he had made me a wrapper, ac-
cording to the manner his countrymen the Bishareen practice
oa such occ vions. This greatly defended my feet in the day,
bat the pain occasioned by the cold in the night was scarce suf-
ferable. I offered to free him from the confinement of his left
band, which was chained to some one of the company night
and day ; but he very sensibly refused it, saying, " Unchain
my hands when you load and unload your camels, 1 cannot then
nm away from you ; for though you did not shoot me, I should
starve with hunger and thirst ; hut keep me to the end of the
journey as you began with me, then I cannot uu>behavc, and
Iwe the reward which you say you are to give me."

At four o'clock we saw large stratas of fossile salt every where
apon the surface of the ground. At five we found the body
of Mahomet To wash on the spot where Ije had been murdered,
stript naked, and lying on his face unburied. The wound in
the back sinew of his leg was apparent ; he was, besides, thrust
through the back with a lance, and had two wounds in the head
with swords. We followed some footsteps in the sand to the
• right, and there saw three other bodies, whom ]dris knew to
be his principal servants. These, it seemed, had taken to their
arms upon the Aga's being first wounded, and the cowardly,
treacherous Bishareens had persuaded them to capitulate upon
promise of giving them camels and provision to carry them in-
to Egypt, after which they had murdered them behind these
rocks.*

* The following p'jrtii:u\n» of the murder oi" Muhonu t Towa*>h, are related l»y Mr.
B"lc«totlie Turkish uovi.rnor of S < n<> : " Mahomet Towash Kit Chrtidi, richly < lolh-
«d M if ho had born at M- mi. lh» had twelve, or fourteen men armed with firelock*,
1*4 about eighty Tncororv, v.iih with a Saner, in h.s hand, to whom he was to p.ive food
«d water incroMiug the desert. There v i n; three guides, all BUI in rem, who had come
fan Saakem with the caravan, and were earning back tenna to the m iphbourhood of
Sttne. 1 offered to join coiupanj w ith them ; and though one piidc was e.nout^h for him, yet,
(odittrem me ai beinqa christian, he took the whole three along with nun, contrary to the
dcflireof the chief of the Arab* : but he found them three murderer*, and left me the on-
ifboneft man, whom he did not know. One of his guides went tn AI>ou Betran, a prin-
cipal Shekb of the Bishareen Arabs, and prepared a party to meet them on the road at
&t veil station, while the other two guides, took car** to deceive him by li-.'s. and carted

TJie Wonders of

At six o'clock we alighted at Umarack, so called fir
number of rack trees that grow there, and which seem 1
feet a saltish soil ; at Kahak and Masuah, 1 had seen
growing in the sea. When I ordered a halt at Umaracl
general cry was, to travel all night, so that we might be
distance from that dangerous, unlucky spot. The sight o
men murdered, and fear of the like fate, had got the bett
their other sensations. In short, there was nothing more vi
than that their apprehensions were of two sorts, and prod
very different operations. The Simoom, the stalking pilla
sand, and probability of dying with thirst or hunger, brc
on a torpor, or indifference, that made them inactive ; bv
discovery of the Arab at Terfowey, the fear of meeting th<
shareen at the wells, and the' dead bodies of the Aga ant
unfortunate companions, produced a degree of activity an
ritation that resembled very much their spirits beiug elevate
good news. I told them, that of all the places in the d
through which they had passed, this was by far the safest
cause fear of being met by troops from Assouan, seeking
murderers of Mahomet Towash would keep all the Bishs
at a distance. Our Arab said, that the next well belong
the Ababde. Idris contributed his morsel of comfort, by ;
ring us, that the wells now, as far as Egypt, were so scan
water, that no party above ten men would trust their prov
to them, and none of us had the lea t apprehension from
rauders of twice that number. The night at Umarack wa
cesFively cold as to sensation ; Farenheit's thermometer
however at 49 degrees an hour before day-light.

On the 23d we left Umarack, our road this day being bet
mountains of blue stones of a very fine and perfect qui
through the heart of which ran thick veins of jasper, their

him directly upon the road vv he re ihe. plot wa?, laid. About twenty men on camel:
ed with lances, and as mam young men on foot, wilh swords, came to meet hire
thoae upon camels made their bea>H kneel dow n at sonfe distance from him, an out
spect coming to kiss his hands, as of a holy ptuvjon belonging to the Caaba, their sa
ry at Mecca.

The vain imprudent man dismounted from his camel, to give them a more easy
tunity of paying him their respects, and when one of them held him by the band ir.
of foeudtr ip, another cut h m across the. hnms with a broad sword, and a third n
through the back with a lance. He endeavoured to put his hands to his pistols,
was too late. They afterwards persuaded his servant*, who had fire arms iu their
and, like fools, did not use them, to capitulate ; and after they had disarmed then
carried them aside, and murdered them also; they then took away all the wat
camels* and left the Tucorory to die with thirat. Wc found the body of TowasJ
upon the sand withered and dried, but not corrupted Ismael and the Barbarin
sand over him. All the next day the road wan strewed with the bodies of the Tw
The day following we found dead bodies of people who bad perish, d with thirst, a
ed here and there, like the tractof a pursuit after a battle ; their dry bottle* nr
gourds, were grasped in their hands, and some held them to their mouths as if m
them. This man was blinded by his pride and presumption ; for had we joined out
paoies, there could not have been a better place to have fought the Bishareen tha
«poft, had they dared to attack ns, which is not probable."

Nature mi Fnvifcjux :

ta perpeudicular to the horizon. There were other mountains*
of marble of the colour called Isabella. In other places the
rock seemed composed of petrified wood. Going due north we
entered a narrow valley, in which we passed two wells on our
left, and following the windings through this valley, all of deep
sand, we came to a large pool of excellent water, called Um-
gwat, sheltered from the rays of the sun by a large rock which
projected over it, the upper part of which was shaped like k
wedge, and was composed all of green marble, without the
smallest variety or spot of other colour in it.

Through this whole valley, to-day, we had seen the bodies
of the Tucorory who had followed Mahomet Towash, and been
scattered by the Bishareen, and left to perish with thirst there.
None of them, however, as far as we could observe, had ever
fetched this well. In the water we found a bird of the duck
kind called Teal, or Widgeon. The Turk Ismael was prepar-
ing to shoot at it with his blunderbuss, but I desired him to re-
frain, being willing, by its flight, to endeavour tojudge something
of the nearness of the Nile. We raised it therefore by sudden
repeated cries, which method was likely to make it seek its home
straight, and abandon a place it must have been a stranger to.
TTie bird flew straight west, rising as he flew, a sure proof his
journey was a long one, till at last, being very high and at a
dtttance, he vanished from our sight, without descending or
welting to approach the earth ; from which I drew an unpleas-
ant inference that we were yet far from the Nile, as was really
the case.

Here we threw away the brackish water that remained in our
- girbas, and filled them with the wholesome element drawn from
this pool of Umgwat. I could not help reproaching Idris with
the inaccuracy of the information he had pretended to give us
the day before, that no party above ten men could meet us at
any of these wells, as none of them could supply water for more ;
whereas in this pool there was certainly enough of excellent
water to serve a whole tribe of Arabs for a month. He had
little to say, further than that Haimer, though near, was a scanty
well, and perhaps we should not find water there at all. He
trusted, however, if our people would take heart, we were out
of all danger from Arabs, or any thing else.

At three we left the well, and continued along a sandy velley,
which is called Waadi Umgwat. This night it was told me that
Georgis, and the Turk Ismael, were both so ill, and so despond-
ing, that they had resolved to pursue the journey no farther,
hot submit to their destiny, as they called it, and stay behind
«nd die. It was with the utmost difficulty I could get them to
l»y aside this resolution, and the next morning I promised they

«

120

The kVanders of

should ride by turns upon one of the camels, a tiling that non£
of us had yet attempted. They had, indeed, often desired me
to do so, but I well knew, if I had set them that example, beside*
destroying the camels, it would have had the very worst effect
upon their dastardly spirits; and, indeed, we very soon saw
the bad effects of this humane consideration for the two inva-
lids.

On the 24th, we left Umgwat, following the windings of san-
dy valleys between stony hills. At half past nine we found Ma-
homet Towash's horse dead. The poor creature seemed, with-
out a guide, to have followed exactly enough the tract of the
wells and way to Egypt, and had survived all his fellow travel-
lers. - At eleven o'clock we came to some plains of loose, mov-
ing sand, and saw some pillars in motion, which had not wind to
sustain them for any time, and which gave us, therefore, little
concern. We found a dead man, whose corpse was quite dry,
and had been so a considerable time. In the evening we alight-
ed at El Haimer, where are the two wells in a large plain ol
sand. The water is good. There is another well to the we*
of us, but it is bitter and saltish, though more abundant than
either of the other two, which, by filling our skins, we had seve-
ral times drained. ,

On the 25th of November, 1772, we left the well El Haimer.
and at ten o'clock alighted among some acacia-trees, our cam-
els having ate nothing all night, except the dry bitter roots ol
that drug the senna. While we were attending the camels, and
resting ourselves on the grass, we were surprized at the appear-
ance of a troop of Arabs all upon camels, who looked like a
caravan, each camel having a small loading behind him. The}
had two gentle ascents before they could arrive at the place
where we were. The road is between two sandy hills, at the
back of which our camels were feeding in a wood. It was ne-
cessary to understand one another before we allowed them tc
pass between the sandy hills. Upon the first alarm, my people
all repaired to me, bringing their arms in their hands. I then
advanced to the edge of the hill, and cried out with a lone
voice, " Stop ! for you cannot pass here." But they still per-
sisted in mounting the hill. I again cried, shewing my firelock,
" Advance a step farther and I'll fire." After a short pause
they all dismounted from their camels, and one of them, with
his lance in his hand, came forward till within twenty yards,
upon which Idris immediately knew them, and said, they were
Ababde ; that he was married to one of the Ababde of Shekh
Ammer, and he would go and get a sure word from them. Tell
them, said I, that we will do them no harm, provided they consent
to pass, one by one, and give n man for a hostage.

Nature and Providence.

221

Idris, without arms, having joined the man who had advan-
ced towards us, went down with him to the body of strangers,
and the treaty was soon agreed to. Two of the principal men
among them' approaching me without their lances, and the com-
pliment of peace, 44 Salem Alicum ! and Alicum Salem !" was
given and returned by both sides. 1 desired Idris to order their
camels to go on ; and one of the Barbarins in the meantime
brought them a gourd full of water, and bread, for eating to-
gether is like pledging your faith.* They had not heard of the
fate of Mahomet Aga, and seemed very ill-pleased at it, saying,
that Abou Bertran was a thief and a murderer. All the camels
being past. I asked them whither they were going?' They said
to Atbieh, west of Terfowey, to gather senna for the govern-
ment of Cario. I w.ould very fain have had them to sell or ex-
change with me a couple of camels. They said theirs were not
strong ; that before they could reach home they would be much
in the same condition with our own ; that they were obliged to
had them very heavily, as indeed the bags they bad behind
them to carry the senna seemed to indicate their profit was but
mall, so that the death of one camel was a most serious loss. •
I thought myself obliged in humanity to introduce our pris-
oner to the two Ababde that had remained with us. They said,
they intended to take water at Terfowey, and we told them briefly
die accident by which we came in company with the Bishareen.
I charged them, as he did also, to tell his wives that he was well,
and ate and drank as we had done, and wa£ within a few days of
arriving at Assouan, whence he should be returned to them with
> the rewards promised. About two o'clock we left Haimer, and
our friends, the Ababde, continued their route, after giving us
great praise, as well for our civility, as our keeping the watch
uke men, as they expressed it. At eight we alighted at Abou
Perege, a place where there was very little verdure of any kind.
Here, for the first time on our journey we met with a cloudy sky.

On the 26th, we set out from Abou Ferege, continuing near-
ly in the same direction upon Syene, and at four had an unex-

Kcted entertainment, which filled our hearts with a very short-
ed joy. The whole plain before us seemed thick, covered
*ith green grass and yellow daisies. We advanced to the place
with as much speed as 'our lame condition would sufler us, but
now terrible was our disappointment, when we found the whole
of that verdure to consist in senna and coloquintida, the most
nauseous of plants, and the most incapable of being substituted
» food for man or beast. In the evening we alighted at
Saffieha, which is a ridge of craggy mountains to the S. E. and
N. W. The night was immoderately cold, and the wind north.
^8 were now verv near a crisis, one wav or the other. Our

16

MS

TJie W&ivfors of

bread was consumed, so that we had not sufficient for one da
more ; and though we had camels flesh, yet, by living so Ion
on bread and water, an invincible repugnance arose either t
smell or taste it. As our camels were at their last gasp, we ha
taken so sparingly of water, that, when we came to divide i
we found it insufficient for our necessities, if Syene was even s
near as we conceived it to be.

Georgis had lost one eye, and was nearly blind in the otfce
Ismael and he had both become so stiff by being carried, th;
they could not bear to set their feet to the ground ; and I ma
say for myself, that, though 1 had supported the wounds in m
feet with a patience very uncommon, yet they were arrive
at that height as to be perfectly intolerable, and, as I apprehei
ded, on the point of mortification. The bandage, which tl
Bishareen bad tied about the hollow of my foot, was now a
rnosf hidden by the flesh swelling over it. Three large woum
on the right foot, and two on the left, continued open, whem
a quantity of lymph oozed continually. It was also with tl
utmost difficulty we could get out the rag, by cutting it to threi
with scissars. The tale is both unpleasant and irksome. T*
tola* which remained from our sandals, the upper leather •
which had gone to pieces in the sand, were tied with a cottc
cloth very adroitly by the Bishareen. But it seemed imposs
ble that f could walk further, even with this assistance, an
therefore we determined to throw away the quadrant, telescope
and time-keeper, and save our own lives, by riding the came
alternately. But Providence had already d< creed that *
should not terminate this dangerous journey hy our own ord
nary foresight and contrivance, but owe it entirely to his vis
ble support and interposition.

On the 27th, at half past five in the morning we attemptc
to raise our camels at Saffieha by every method that we coul
devise, but all in vain, only one of them could get upon h
legs, and that one did not stand two minutes till he kneelc
down, and could never be raised afterwards. This the Aral
all declared to be the effects of cold ; and yet Farenheit's the:
mometer, an hour before day, stood at 42°. Every way n
turned ourselves death now stared us in the face. We had ne
ther time nor strength to waste, nor provision to support us,-
We then took the small skins that had contained our water, ao
filled them as far as we thought a man could carry them wil
ease ; but after all these shifts, there was not enough to sen
us three days, at which, I had estimated the journey to Syen
which still however was uncertain. Finding, therefore, the a
mels would not rise, we killed two of them, and took so roue
flrth as might serve for the deficiency of bread, and from tl

Nature anil Proiidenc^s

stomach of each of the camels, got about four gallons of water,
which the Bishareeti Arab managed with great dexterity. It is
known to people conversant with natural history, that the camel
has within him reservoirs in which he can preserve drink for any
number of days he is used to. In those caravans, of long courses
which come from the Niger across the desert. of Selima, it is said
that each camel, by drinking, lays in a store of water that will
support him for forty days. I will by no means be a voucher
oi* this account, which carries with it an air of exaggeration $
but fourteen or sixteen days, it is well known, an ordinary cam-
el will live, though he hath no fresh supply of water. When be
chews the cud, or when he eats, you constantly see him throw,
from this repository, mouthfuls of water to dilute his food ; and
nature has contrived this vessel with such properties, that the
water within it never putrifies, nor turns unwholesome. It was
indeed vapid, and of a bluish cast, but had neither taste nor
raiell.

^ The small remains of our miserable stock of black bread and
dirty water, the only support we had hitherto lived on amidst
the burning sands, and .our spirits likewise, were exhausted by
an uncertainty of our journey's end. We were surrounded
among those terrible and unusual phenomena of nature which
Providence, in mercy to the weakness of his creatures, has con-
cealed far from their sight in deserts almost inaccessible to them.
Nothing but death was before our eyes ; and, in these terrible
moments of pain, suffering, and despair, honour, instead of re-
lieving me, suggested still what was to be an augmentation to
my misfortune ; the feeling, this produced, fell directly upon me
alone, and every other individual of the company was uncon-
scious of it.

The drawings made at Palmyra and Baalbec for the king,
were, in many parts of them, not advanced farther than the out-
lines, which I had carried with me, that, if leisure or confine-
ment should happen, I might finish them during my travels in
case of failure of other employment, so far at least, that, on my
return through Italy, they might be in a state of receiving fur-
ther improvement, which might carry them to that perfection I
have since been enabled to conduct them. These were all to be
thrown away, with other not less valuable papers, and, with my
quadrant, telescopes, and time-keeper, abandoned to the rude
*nd ignorant hands of robbers, or to be burjed in the sands.—
Every memorandum, every description, sketch, or observation
rince I departed from Badjoura and passed the desert to Cos-
*ir, till 1 reached the present spot, were left in an undigest-
ed heap, with our camels, at Saffieha, while there remained
*Wi me, in lieu of all my memoranda, but this mtfncpftd cBjM*-

Tki tt'otttifj* of

deration, that as I was now to maintain the reality of these m;
tedious perils, with those who either did, or might affect, froi
malice and envy, to doubt my veracity upon my ipse due
alone, or abandon the reputation of the travels which I ha
made with so much courage, labour, danger, and difficulty, an
which had been considered as desperate and impracticable 1
accomplish for more than two thousand years. I should liki
wise, of course, be deprived of a considerable part of an offei
ing I meant as a mark of duty to my sovereign, and that, wit
those that knew and esteemed me, I should be obliged to ru
in debt for the credit of a whole narrative of circumstance
which ought, from their importance to history and geography
to have a better foundation than the mere memory of any mai
considering thte time and variety of events which they embnc
ed ; and, above all, I may be allowed to say, I felt for my com
try, that chance alone, in this age of discovery, had robbed Im
of the fairest garland of this kind she ever was to wear, whk
all her fleets, full of heroes and men of science, in all the oceai
they might be destined to explore, were incapable of replacin
upon |ier brow. These sad reflections #were mine, and confine
to myself. Luckily my companions were no sharers in then
they had already, in their own sufferings, much more than the
Ijjttle stock of fortitude, philosophy, or education enabled thei
Wbear.

Abont three o'clock in the afternoon we saw three kite
which are very numerous in Egypt, and known to be carric
birds, probably going in search of the dead camels. I coul
not conceal my joy at what I regarded as a happy omen. HV
went five hours and a half this day, and at night came to Waa<
el Arab, where are the first trees we had seen since we left I
Haimer.

On the 28th, we left Waadi el Arab, and entered into a nai
now defile, with rugged but not high mountains on each sid<
About noon we came to a few trees in the bed of a torrent. I
as I was, after refreshing myself with my last bread and watei
I set out in the afternoon to gain a rising ground, that I migt
see, if possible, what was to the westward ; for the mountair
seemed now rocky and high like those of the Kennous nea
Syene. I arrived, with great difficulty and pain, on the to
of a moderate hill, but was exceedingly disappointed at not se«
ing the river to the westward ; however, the vicinity of the Nil
was very evident, by the high, uniform mountains that confir
its torrent when it comes out of Nubia. The evening was stil
so that sitting down and covering my eyes with my hands, m
to be diverted by external objects, I listened and heard distinct!
Ike noise of waters, which I supposed to be the cataract, but i

JStaYure and Providence.

seamed to the southward of us, as if we had passed it. I was,
however, folly satisfied that it was the Nile.

Just before I left my station the sun was already low, when
I saw a flock of birds, which are numerous upon the Nile.—
TTIiey are a small species of the heron, about a. third of the size
of the common one, milk-white, having a tuft of flesh-coloured
feathers upon their breast, of a coarser, stronger, and more
hmiry-like quality than the shorter feathers. A flock of these
birds was flying in a straight line, very low, evidently seeking
fetid along the banks of the river. It was not an hour for birds
to go far from their home, nor does this bird feed at a distance
from its accustomed haunt at any time. ' Satisfied then, that
continuing our course N* W. we should arrive at or below Sy-
eoe, I returned to join my companions, but it was now dark,
aod I found Idris and the Barbarins in some pain, endeavour-
ing to trace me by my footsteps.

I communicated to them this joyful news, which was confirm-
ed by Idris, though he did not himself know the just distance
fern this place. A cry of joy followed this annunciation. —
Christians, Moors, and Turks, all burst into floods of tears,
bring and embracing one another, and thanking God for his
■ercy in this deliverance, and unanimously in token of their
gratitude, and acknowledgement of my constant attention to
them in the whole of this long journey ; saluting me with the
mme of Abou Ferege, Father Foresight, the only reward it
was in their power to give.

On the 29th, at seven o'clock in the morning we left Abou
Seielat ; about nine, we saw the palm trees at Assouan, and
before ten arrived in a grove of palm trees on the north of that
chy.

Without congratulating one another on their escape and safe
arrival, as they had the night before at Abou Seielat, my com-
panions with one accord ran to the Nile to drink ; though they
had already seen, in the course of the journey, two or three tra-
gical instances, the consequences of intemperance in drinking,
*ater. I sat myself down under , the shade of the palm trees,
to recollect myself. It was very hot, and 1 fell into a profound
Aep. But Hagi Ismael, who was neither sleepy nor thirsty,
hot exceedingly hungry, had gone into the town in search of
somebody that would give him food. He was not gone far be-
fore his grfeen turban and ragged appearance struck some bre-
thren janizaries who met him ; one of whom asked him the rea-
son of his being there, and desired him to go to the Aga. This
*tt the very thing that Ismael wanted.. He only desired time
to acquaint his companions. " Have- you companions, says
4c soldier, from such a country ? Well, go along with my com-

The IV under* of

panions, and I will seek yours, but how shall 1 find them i*
" Go, says Ismael, to the palm trees* and when you find thf
tallest man you ever saw in your life, more ragged and dnrtj
than I am, call him Yagoube, and desire him to come along witk
you to the Aga."

The soldier accordingly found me still sitting at the root ol
the palm tree. The servants who had now satisfied their thirst
and wore uncertain what was next to be done, were sitting to-
gether at some distance from me. They began to feel then
own weariness, and were inclined to leave me to a little repose
which they hoped might enable me to overcome mine. For mj
own part, a dulness and insensibility, an universal relaxation ol
spirits which I cannot describe, a kind of stupor, or palsy of the
mind, had overtaken me, almost to a deprivation of understand-
ing. I found in myself a kind of stupidity, and want of power ta
reflect upon what had passed. I seemed to be, a$ if awakened
from a dream when the senses are yet half asleep, and we odlj
begin to doubt whether what has before passed in thought* fa
real or not. The dangers that I was just now delivered firon
made no impression upon my mind, and what more and mON
convinces me I was for a time not in my perfect senses, is, that 1
found in myself a hard-heartedness, without the least inclinatios
to be thankful for that signal deliverance which I had just nan
experienced.

From this stupor I was awakened by the arrival of the soldier*
who cried out to us at some distance, " You must come to tin
Aga to ihe castle, all of you, as fast as you can, the Turk it
gone before you." " It will not be very fast, if we even shoulc
do that, said I ; the Turk has ridden two days on a camel, anc
I have walked on foot, and do not know at present if I cm
walk at all." I endeavoured, at the same time, to rise anc
stand upright, which I did not succeed in, after several attempts
without great pain and difficulty. 1 observed the soldier was in t
prodigious astonishment at my appearance, habit, and above all
at my distress. " We shall get people in town, says hf, to assist
you, and if you cannot walk, the Aga will send you a mule."

Ismael and Michael had in their hands two monstrous blun-
derbusses. The town crowded together after us while we walk-
ed to the castle, and could not satiate themselves with admiring
a company of such an extraordinary appearance. The Ap
was struck dumb upon our entering the room, and told me af
terwards, that he thought me a full foot taller than any mau b
had ever seen iu his life.

Upon entering into the presence of the Aga of Syene, (cal-
led in Arabic Assouan) I saw he was embarrassed whether ht
should desire me to sit down or not, so that I saved him the

Nature atid Ptoxidtncc**

127

liberation, by saying, immediately after saluting him, "Sir.
yau will excuse me, I must sit." He bowed, and made a sign,
complacently asking me, " Are you a Turk ? are you a Mussul-
man ?" " I am not a Turk, said I, nor am I a Mussulman ; I am
M an Englishman, and bearer of the Grand Signior's firman to
*«Hhis subjects, and of letters from the regency of Cairo, and
w from the Porte of Janizaries, to yoiu" Upon my mentioning
the Grand Signior, the Aga got upon his feet, and said, very
politely, " Do you choose to have your servants sit?" " lu
"neb a disastrous journey as I have made, sir, said I, our ser-
u tints must be our companions; besides, they have a strong
"excuse for sitting, neither they nor I have a foot to stand up-

Aga. " Where are those letters and firman r" Mr. Bruce,
"Where they may be now I know not, we left them at Saf-
fieba with ;all the rest of our baggage; our camels died, our
provisions and water were exhausted, we therefore left every
| tiring behind us, and made this one effort to save our lives. —
It is the first favour I am to ask of you, when I shall have
rated myself two days, to allow me to get fresh camels, to go
■ search of my letters and baggage." Aga. "God forbid
Iihoold ever suffer you to do so mad an action. You are come
feher by a thousand miracles, and after this, will you tempt
God and go back ? we shall take it for granted what those pa-
pers contain. You will have no need of a firman between this
ltd Cairo." Mr. Bruce. " We shall leave it upon that foot-
ing for the present, allow me only to say, I am a servant of the
king of England, travelling by his order, and for my own and
oy countrymen's information ; that I had rather risk my life
twenty times, than lose the papers I have left in the desert." —
Aga. " Go in peace, and eat and sleep. Carry them, says he,
speaking to his attendant!, to the house of the Schourbatchie."
Thus ended our first interview with the Aga, who put us in pos-
session of a very good house, and it happened to be the very
man to whom I was recommended by my correspondents at
Cairo when I was first here, who had absolutely forgotten, but
soon remembered me, as did many others, but my old friend the
Aga had been changed, and was then at Cairo.

We were not long arrived before we received from the Aga
fifty loaves of fine wheat bread, and several large dishes of
dfest meat. But the smell of these last no sooner reached me
than I fainted upon the floor. I made several trials afterwards,
with no better success, for the first two days, nor could I recon-
cile myself to any sort of food but toasted bread and coffee.
My servants had' none of these qualms, for they partook largely
*f rt>p .\ga'^ bounty.

128

The Wonders of

I had kept the house five or six days after my arrival, dnrin
which I corresponded with the Aga only by messages, and firoi
my servant who had passed between us he had learned tl
whole of our adventures. I then went to the castle for an m
dience, and intreated the A.ga that he would procure six oreigl
camels to mount my men upon, and bring my baggage flha
Saffieha. He gave a start at the first request, and would »
by any means hear of that proposal ; he called it temptin
God, and assured me I should be cut off by the very men thi
had murdered Mahomet Towash ; that having seen the cast
and things which 1 had thrown away at Umarack, they wool
follow my tract on to Saffieha, would have taken every thin
that I had left, and would be now pursuing me up to the gates i
Assouan. All this was extremely probable, but it was not 1
such reasoning that I could be a convert. I had insinuate
that the welfare of mankiud was concerned in the recovery i
those papers ; that there was among them recipes; which, if die
did not totally prevent the plague, and the small pox, wool
at least greatly lessen their violence and duration. This, an
perhaps a more forcible insinuation, that he should not be wit!
out a recompence for any trouble that he gave himself on n
account, brought him at last to consent to my request, and *
arranged our expedition accordingly.

Our first step was to send for Idris and the Arab from Dara
for neither of them would enter the town with us, for fear son
story should be trumped up against them regardiug Mahonn
Towash's murder, which would not have failed to have been tfc
case had not we been with them ; but upon the Aga sending
man of confidence for them, they both came without delay, an
were lodged in my house, under my protection.

The night following every thing befog ready, we set out afb
it was dark from the castle, all upon aromedaries. The gati
of the town were open for us, and were immediately shut upc
our passing through them ; the Aga fearing his own people i
much as the Bishareen ; and saying always by way of proved
" Every body is an enemy in the desert." The Aga had sec
four servants belonging to his stables to accompany us ; acth
lively, and good humoured fellows. Our people too, were a
recruited. Ismael, and blind Georgis, were left to take care «
the house in my absence. About twelve o'clock we got into
valley, and hid ourselves in the lowest part of it, under a bad
for the night was exceeding cold ; but we had spirits with a
which we drank with moderation. We there refreshed Of
beasts about half an hour, and again stopt in a valley amoc
trees. I was afraid that we had passed our baggage in tl
dork, as none of us were perfectly sure of the place; but

•Xature and Procidcjwe.

129

soon as light came, we recovered our track as fresh and entire
as when me made it. After having gone about half an hour in
oar former footsteps, we had the unspeakable satisfaction to find
our quadrant aud whole baggage ; and by them the bodies of
our slaughtered camels, a small part of one of them having
been torn by the haddaya or kite.

ll was agreed we should not stay here, but load and depart
immediately ; this was done in an instant : five camels easily
carried the loads, with a man upon them besides ; and there
were three more camels, upon which we road by turns. We
made a brisk retreat from Saflicha to Syene, which is about for-
ty miles. At a little past four in the afternoon we entered the
town again, without any accident whatever, or without having
seeuone man in our journey.

Here then we were to close our travels through the desert, by
discharging the debts contracted in it. We had now got our
credit and letters, which furnished us with money. I began by
rtcompencing Idris Welled Hamran, the guide, for his faithful
services. The next thing was to keep our faith with our prison-
er I had made Idris choose him a good camel, cioathed him
anew, and gave him dresses for his two wives, with a load of
dora, [i. c. bread.] I then dispatched liitn with the Aga's pro-
tection, wondering what men we were, who, without compulsion
or subterfuge, kept our words so exactly. Though rich be-
yond his hopes, and so very lately our enemy, the poor fellow,
**ith tears in his eyes, declared, if I would permit him, he would
only go back and deliver up what I had given him to his family,
and return to me at Syene, and follow me as my servant wher-
ever I should go.

Although we had wherewithal to have bought proper dres-
ses, I thought it better to do this when we should come to Cai-
ro. We got each of us a coarse barracan, for cleanliness only,
and a pair of trowsers. I furnished Ismael with a green tur-
ban, to give us some weight with the vulgar during our voyage
down the Nile. I -then went to my friend the Aga, to concert
the measures that remained necessary for leaving Syene and be-
ginning our journey. He testified the greatest joy at seeing us
again. He had been informed of our whole expedition by his
servants the night before, and praised us, in the presence of his
attendants, for our alacrity, steadiness, and courage under the
P*at fatigues of travelling.

• It was the 1 1 th of December when we left Syene ; we cannot
•ay sailed, for our mast being down, we went with the current
*nd the oars, when the wind was against us. In our voyage
down the Nilewehad but very indifferent weather, clear through-
the daw excredinglv coM in the\iight and morning : Hit-

17

130

The Wonders of

being better cloathed, better fed than in the desert, and ok
cover, we were not so sensible of it, though the therraom
shewed the same degrees. Above all, we had a good da
provision of brandy on board, part of which I had proci
from the Aga. part from the Schourbatchie my landlord, nei
of whom knew the other had given me any, and both of t!
pretended to each other, and to the world, that they never ta
fermented liquors of any kind, nor kept them in their costt

I had given to each of my servants a common blanket ca
a barracan, of the warmest and coarsest kind, with a waist
and trowsers of the same, and all of us, I believe, had cons
ed to the Nile the clothes in which we passed the desert. 1
meanness of our appearance did not at all shock us, since n
ing contributes more to safety in a country like this. On
19th we arrived at How, where the intermitting fever, wbi
had at Syene, again returned, with unusual violence, and i
was most unlucky, my stock of bark was almost exhausted.

On the 27th, at a small village before we came to Achi
we were hailed by a person, who, though meanly dressed, ip
with a tone of authority, and asked for a passage to Ci
which I would have denied him if I could have had my •
will; but the Rais readily promised it upon his first appl
tion. He afterwards told me he*was a Copht and a chrty
employed to gather the Bey's taxes in such villages as were <
inhabited by christians, to which the Bey did not permil
Turks to go. " I beard, says he, you was coming down
Nile, and I way-laid you for a passage ; the Rais knows wl
am, and that I shall not be troublesome to you ; but I ha'
large sum of money, and do not choose to have it know
hope, however, you will give me your protection for the !
of my master.1' " Indeed, friend, said I, I have but seven i
lings in the whole world, and my clothes, I believe, are
worth much above that sum, and it is but a few days ago I
rejoicing at this as one of my greatest securiti -s. But a
providence has I hope for your good, thrown you and 3
money in my way, I will do the best for you that is in my p
er, the same as if it was my own."

On the 10th of January, 1773 we arrived at the convent oi
George, (in Grand Cairo,) all of us, as I thought, worse in he
and spirits than the day we came out of the desert. Nob
knew us at the convent,- either by our face or our langai
Ismael and the Copht, went straight to the Bey, and I, 1
great difficulty, had interest enough to send to the patria
and my merchants at Cairo, by employing the two only pias
I had in my pocket. The Caloyeros of St. George kept u
a great distance. It was half by violence that we got adi

Nature and Providtnce.

13}

lance into the convent. But this difficulty was to be but of
short duration ; the morning was to end it, and give us a sight
of oar friends, and in the meantime we were to sleep soundly.
We had nothing else to do, having no victuals, and the Caloy-
eros nothing to give us, even if they had been inclined, of which
we had not seen yet the smallest token.

This we thought, and this, in the common view of things, we
wereintitled to think ; but we forgot that we were at Cairo, no
longer to depend upon the ordinary or rational course of events,
but upon the arbitrary, oppressive will of irrational tyrants.
Accordingly I had, for about an hour, lost myself in the very
uncommon enjoyment of a most profound sleep, when I was
awakened by the noise of a number of strange tongues ; and,
before I could recollect myself, sufficiently to account what this
tunralt might be, eleven or twelve soldiers, very like the worst
of banditti, surrounded the carpet whereon I was asleep. I had
presence of mind sufficient to recollect this was not a place
where people were robbed and murdered without cause ; and,
convinced in my own mind that I had given none, from that
alone I inferred I was not to be robbed or murdered at that
instant. I asked them, with some surprise, " What is the mat-
ter, Sirs? What is the meaning of this freedom?'9 the answer
Hi, " Get up ! the Bey calls yon. Ismael, that you brought
fan Habesh, has been with the Bey, and he wants to see you ;
and that is all."

[Mr. Bruce experienced very rough usuag-e from the soldiers who con-
ducted him from the convent to the Bey's palace, a distance of three miles ;
oo christians being suffered to ride in the streets of Cairo upon any other
ttioal than an ass ; and his brutal conductors not only struck the poor
beat with their quarter-staffs, to urge it forward, but the blows frequently
righted upon our traveller^ back or haunches, so that his flesh was disco*
hired for more than two months afterwards. Being arrived at the palace,
k alighted from his disconsolate ass with much greater pleasure than he
ever mounted the finest horse in the world. His interview with the Bey of
Cairo he thus describes:]

I was introduced to Mahomet Bey Abou Dahab. He was
son-in-law to Ali Bey my friend, whom he had betrayed, and
forced to fly into Syria, where he still was at the head of a
small army. A large sofa, or rather two large sofas furnished
with cushions, took up a great part of a spacious saloon. They
were of the richest crimson and gold, excepting a small yellow
and gold one like a pillow, upon which he was leaning, support-
ing his head with his left hand, and sitting just in the. corner of
the two sofas. Though it was late, he was in full dress, his gir-
dle, turban, and handle of his dagger, all shining with the fin-
est brilliants, and a finer sprig of diamonds upon his turban
than what I had seen his father-in-law wear once when I was
with hiim

i42

'Ulic Wonders of

The room was light as day, with a number of wax-torch-
or candles. I found myself humbled at the sight of so mu«
greatness and affluence. My bare feet were so dirty, I had
scruple to set them upon the rich Persian carpets with whii
the whole floor was covered, and the pain that walking at 8
occasioned, gave me altogether so crouching and cringing
look, that the Bey, upon seeing me come in, cried out, Wbta
that ? Who is that ? From whence is he come ?" His secret
ry told him, and immediately upon that I said to him in Arabi
with a low bow, " Mahomet Bey, I am Yagoube, an Englis
man, better known to your father-in-law than to you, very u
fit to appear before you in the condition T am, having been for
ed out of my bed by your soldiers in the middle of the on
sound sleep I have had for many years." He seemed to bee
ceedingly shocked at this, and said to his attendants, "
people ! who dares do this ? it is impossible." Those th
were privy to the message reminded him of his sending form
and the cause, which he had forgot. They told him whatl
roael had said, and what the Copht, the tax-gatherer, had me
tioned, all very much in my favour, lie turned himself wi
great violence on the sofa, and said, "I remember them
well, but it was not a man like this, this is bad payment indee
I was going to ask you, Yagoube, says he, who those were th
had brought you out in such distress, and 1 find that I ha
done it myself; but take my word, as I am a mussulman, I c
not intend it, I did not know you was ill."

My feet at that time gave me such violent pain that I w
like to faint, and could not answer, but as there were two flo
ered velvet cushions upon one of the steps above the floor
was obliged to kneel down upon one of them, as 1 did i
know how sitting might be taken. The Bey immediately s:
this, and cried out, " What now ? what is the matter r" 1 s:
he thought I had some complaint to make, or something to at
I shewed him my feet in a terrible situation, the effects, I tc
him, of ray passing through the desert. He desired me imn
diately to sit down on the cushion. " It is the coldness of 1
night, and hanging upon the ass, said I, occasions this ; t
pain will be over presently."'" You are an unfortunate mi
says the Bey, whatever I mean to do for your good, turn* to yc
misfortune." " I hope not, Sir, said I ; the pain is now ov«
and I am able to hear what may be your commands." " Iba
many questions to ask you, says the Be)'. You have been *
ry kind to poor old Ismael, who is a sherriffe, and to my Chr
tian servant likewise ; and I wanted to see what I could do i
you ; but this is not the time, go home and sleep, and I *
sj»pd for you. Eat and drink, and fear nothiug. My fatlr

Nature and Frovidcatt.

iu-law is gouc, but, by the grace of God, 1 am here in bis
place; that is enough." I bowed and took my leave.

The Bey had spoken several times to his servant in Turkish ;
but these interruptions are too common at such audiences to
be taken notice of. I went out to the antichambers attended
by five or six people, and then into another room, the door of
which opened to the lobby where his soldiers or servants were.
There was a slave very richly dressed, who had a small basket
with oranges in his hand, who came out at another door, as if
from the Bey, and said to me, " Here, Yagotibe, here is some
fruit for you."

In that country it is not the value of the present, but the
character and power of the person that sends it) that creates
the value. It is a mark of friendship and protection, and the
best of all assurance*. Well accustomed to ceremonies of this
kind. I took a single orange, bowing low to the man that gave
it me, who whispered me, " Put your hand to the bottom, the
best fruit is there, the whole is for you, it is from the Bey."
A purse was exceedingly visible. It was a large crimson one
wrought with gold, not netted or transparent- as ours are, but
Gker a stocking. I lifted it out ; there were a considerable
number of sequins in it ; I kissed it, in respect from whence it
came, and said to the young man that held the basket, " This
is, indeed, the best fruit, at least commonly thought so, but it
is forbidden fruit for me. The Bey's protection and favour is
more agreeable to me than a thousand such purses would be."

The servant shewed a prodigious surprise. In short, nothing
can he more incredible to a Turk, whatever his quality may be,
than to think that any man can refuse money offered him. Al-
though I expressed myself with the utmost gratitude and hu-
mility, finding it impossible to prevail upon me, the thing ap-
peared so extraordinary, that a beggar in a barracan, dressed
like those slaves who carry water, and wash the stairs, should
["tfuse a purse of gold, he could no longer consent to my go-
lng away, but carried me back to where the Bey was still sitting.
He was looking at a large piece of yellow saitin. He asked
toe usual question, " How, now ? What is the matter ?" To
which his slave gave him a long answer in Turkish. He laid
down the sattin, turned to me, and said, *• Why, what is this?
^*>n must surely want money ; that is not your usual dress ?
^hat ! does this proceed from your pride f "

** Sir, answered I, may I bepr leave to say two words to you ?
There is not a man to whom you ever gave money more grateful,
op more sensible of your generosity in offering it to me, than I
at this present. The reason of my waiting upon you in this
^ess was, because it is only a few hours ago since I left the

The Wonders of

boat. 1 am not however a needy man, or one that is distress
ed for money ; that being- the case, and as you have alread
my prayers for your charity, I would not deprive you of thosl
of the widow and the orphan, whom that money may very ma
terially relieve. Julian and Rosa, the first house in Cairo, wil
furnish me with what money I require ; besides, I am in theser
vice of the greatest king in Europe, who would not fail to sup
ply me abundantly if my necessities required it, as I am travel
ling for his service."

[Id the subsequent conversation between tbe Bey and Mr. Bruce, h
so far gained the esteem of that Prince, by his manly and general
behaviour, that he obtained a Firman, permitting the captains of £ngiit
vessels belonging to Bombay aud Bengal, to bring their ships and mei
chandise to Suez ; a place far preferable, in all respects, lo Jidda, t
which they were formerly confined. Of this permission, which do Euro
pean nation could ever before acquire, many English vessels have alread,
availed themselves ; and it has pmved peculiar!} useful both in public ani
private despatches. The Bey ordered Mr. Bruce to be clothed with acai
tan, which is a loose garment like a night gown, and is a pi ft of ceremony
and a mark of favour. Upon withdrawing from the presence of the Bey
ho was received with great respect by the bye-slanders, tie acknoirledg
cs, indeed, " That the man was the s:une, but it was the caftan that mad<
the difference." The soldiers conducted him to his lodgings with great de
spatcb, on a mule finely caparisoucd, but free from the salutations of thi
quarter- staff. The scale of politeness was now turned in his favour, ao<
to shew their respect, they knocked dowu every person they overtook it
the streets, giving him first a blow with the quarter staff, and then asked,
him, why he did not get out of the way ? After some stay at Cairo, Mr
Bruce embarked at Alexandria, for Marseilles, whore he happily arrive*
nnd which finishes the account of his travels.

OF THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.

-rin account of the Visit of the Queen of Sheba* to Jerusalem,
and the consequences of that visit, v z. the foundation of am
Ethiopian monarchy, and the continuation of the Sceptre in thi
Tribe of Judah, down to this day.

We are not to wonder, if the prodigious hurry and flow ol
business, and the immensely valuable transactions they had with
each other, had greatly familiarised the Tyrians and Jews, with
their correspondents the Cushites and Shepherds on the coast ol
Africa. This had gone so far, as very naturally to have crea-
ted a desire in the queen of Sheba, the sovereign of that coun-
try, to go herself and see the application of such immense treas-
ures that had been exported from her country for a series of

* It should properly be Saba, Azfcb, «r Azaba, all sijpiift inp South.

v

Nature Prouidtnce.

135

jrears, and the prince who so magnificently employed them.—
There can be no doubt of this expedition, as Pagan, Arab, Moor,
Abyssinian, and all the countries round, vouch it pretty much in
the terms of scripture.

Many* have thought this queen was an Arab. But Saba was
a separate state, and the Saheans a distinct people from the Ethi-
opians and the Arabs, and have continued so till very lately. —
We know, from history, that it was a custom among these Sa~
beans, to have women for their sovereigns in preference to men,
a custom which still subsists among their descendeuts.

Her name, the Arabs say, was Belkis ; the Abyssinians, JHa-
QUeda. Our Saviour calls her Queen of the South, without men-
tioning any other name, but gives his sanction to the truth of the
▼oyage. "The Queen of the South, shall rise up in ihe judg-
<c ment with this generation, and shall condemn it; for she came
** from the uttermost parts of the earth to hear the wisdom of
'* Solomon ; and, behold, a greater than Solomon is here." Matt.
**xii. 42. Luke xi. 31. It is not probable our Saviour would
say she came from the uttermost parts of the earth, if she had
been an Arab, and had near fifty degrees of the continent behind
her. The gold, the myrrh, cassia, and frankincense, were all
the produce of her own country ; and the many reasons Pinedaf
gives to shew she was an Arab, more than convince me that she
was an Ethiopian or Cushite shepherd.

A strong objection to her being an Arab, is, that the Sabeati
Arabs, or Horaerites, the people that lived opposite to Azab on
the Arabian shore, had kings instead of queens, which latter
the Shepherds had, and still have. Moreover, the kings of the
Homerites were never seen abroad, and were stoned to death if
they appeared in public ; subjects of this stamp would not very
readily suffer their queen to go to Jerusalem, even supposing
they had a queen, which they had not.

Whether she was a Jewess or a Pagan is uncertain ; Sabaism
*as the religion of all the East. It was the constant attendant
*nd stumbling-block of the Jews ; but considering the multitude
°f that people then trading from Jerusalem, and the long time it
continued, it is not improbable she was a Jewess. " And when
"the queen of Sheba heard of the fame of Solomon concerning
"the name of the Lord, she came to prove him with hard ques-
tions."J Our Saviour, moreover, speaks of her with praise,
Pointing her out as an example to the Jews.§ And, in her
thanksgiving before Solomon, she alludes to God's blessing on

* Such a* Ju«tiii,Cvprian, Kpiphaiiiu*, Cyril.

* Pm. do r« b .Solum m Jib iv. cap. 14th.— Josephiu thinks she was an Ethiopian,
fl" Oris,.llf Auiciwtin, undSt. Aiwlnio

* * Kinp*. s 1 . -2 Chron- ix. 1 . 5 Matft. x'u. 4'J. l.uki* sr.

130

ISfce Wonders of

\hc seed of Israel for ever,* which is by no means the lang
of a Pagan, but of a person skilled in the ancient histo
the Jews.

She likewise appears to have been a person of learning
that sort of learning which was then almost peculiar to I
titfe, not to Ethiopia. For we see that one of the reaso
her coming, was to examine whether Solomon was real]
learned man he was said to be. She came to try him in
gories, or parables, in which Nathan had instructed Soloi

The learning of the East, and of the neighbouring king
corresponded with each other, especially in Palestine and £
consisted chiefly in these : " And Joash king of Israel si
" Amaiiah king of Judah, saying, The thistle that was in
" anon sent to the Cedar 'hat was in Lebanon, saying,
" thy daughter to my son to wife : and there passei
" a wild beast that was in Lebanon, and trod down the
" tie." — u Thou sayest, Lo, thou hast smitten the Edomitet
" thine heart lifteth thee up to boast : abide now at home,
" shouldest thou meddle to thine hurt, that thou shouldes
" even thou, and Judah with thee ?" 2 Chron. xxv. 18. 1<

The annals of Abyssinia, being very full upon this point,
taken a middle opinion, and by no means an improbable
They say she was a Pagan when she left Azab, but behij
of admiration at the sight of Solomon's works, she was co:
ted to Judaism in Jerusalem, and bore him a son, whon
called Menilek, and who was their first king. However sti
ly they assert this, and however dangerous it would 1
doubt it in Abyssinia, I will not here aver it for truth, nor i
less still will I positively contradict it, as scripture has said i
ing about it.

To Saba, or Azab, then, she returned with her son M ei
whom, after keeping him some years, she sent back to h
ther to be instructed. Solomon did not neglect his charge
he was anointed and crowned king of Ethiopia, in the te
of Jerusalem, and at his inauguration took the name of D
After this he returned to Azab, and brought with him a cc
of Jews, among whom were many doctors of the law of W
particularly oueof each tribe, to make judges in his king
from whom the present Umbares (or Supreme Judges, thr
whom always attend the king) are said and believed to b
scended. With these came also Azarias, the son of Zadol
priest, and brought with him a Hebrew transcript of the
which was delivered into his custody, as he bore the title of
brit, or High Priest ; and this charge, though the book

■ 1 Kinsp x.P. 2C1iron. ix. n

Mature and Providence.

137

was burnt with the church of Axum in the Moorish war of Adel,
is still continued, as it is said, in the lineage of Azarias, who are
Nebrits, or keepers of the church of Axum, at this day. All
Abyssinian was thereupon converted, and the government of
the church and state modelled according* to what was then in use
at Jerusalem.

By the last act of the queen of Sheba's reign, she settled the
mode of succession in her country for the future. First, she
enacted, that the crown should be hereditary in the family of
Solomon for ever. Secondly, that after her, no woman should
be capable of wearing that crown or being quetn, but that it
should descend to the heir male, however distant, in exclusion
of all heirs female whatever, however near; and that these two
articles should be considered as the fundamental laws of the
kingdom, never to be altered or abolished. And, lastly, That
the heirs male of the royal house, should always be sent pri-
soners to a high mountain, where they were to continue till their
death, or till the succession should open to them.

What was the reason of this last regulation is not known, it
being peculiar to Abyssinia ; but the custom of having women
for sovereigns, which was a very old one, prevailed among the
neighbouring shepherds in the last century, and, for what we
bow, prevails to this clay. It obtained in Nubia till Augustus's
time, when Petreius, his lieutenant in Egypt, subdued the coun-
try, and took the queen Candace prisoner. It endured also
after Tiberius, as we learn from St. Philip's baptising the eu-
nuch,* servant of queen Candace, who must have bc^n succes-
sor to the former; for she when taken prisoner by Petreius, is
represented as an infirm woman, having but one eye. Candace
indeed was the name of all the sovereigns, in the same manner
Caesar was of the Roman emperors. As for the last severe
Pajt, the punishment of the princes, it was probably intended
to prevent some disorders among the princes of her house, that
sKe had observed frequently to happen in the house of Davidf

Jerusalem.

The queen of Sheba having made these laws irrevocable to
^ll her posterity, died, after a long rei^n of forty years, in 986
fe^fore Christ, placing her son Menilek upon the throne, whose
poiterity, the annah of Abyssinia would teach us to believe,
»*a*ve ever since reigned. So far we must indeed bear witness to
***em, that this is no new doctrine, but has been steadfastly and
uniformly maintained from their earliest account of time; first,
^hen Jews, then in later days after they had embraced christiani-
'>". We may further add, that the testimony of all the neigh-

138 The Wonder* of

bouring nations is with them upon this subject, whether the}
be friends or enemies. They only differ iu the name of Um
queen or iu giving her two names.

This difference, at such a distance of time, should not breal
scores, especially as we shall see that the queens in the presto
day have sometimes three or four names, and all the kings three
whence has arisen a very great confusion in their history. Am
as for her being an Arab, the objection is still easier got over.—
For all the inhabitants of Arabia Felix, especially those of th
coast opposite to Saba, were reputed Abyssinians, and tbei
country part of Abyssinia, from the earliest ages, to the
hometan conquest and after. They were her subjects; %if
Sabean Pagans like herself, then converted (as the tr adit 101
says] to Judaism, during the time of the building of the temple
and continuing Jews from that time to the year 622 after Cbritl
when they became Mahometans The bearing of the king! «
Abyssinia is a lion ,passanl, proper upon a field fiules, and thei
motto, "Mo Anbasa am Nizilet Soloman am Negade Jude?
which signifies, ' the lion of the race of Solomon and tribe c
Judah hath overcome.'

OF THE ABYSSINIAN CANNIBALS; -

Mr. Bruce's account of a detestable practice among the Abysm
nians of eating live Flesh ; and. which^ perhaps , elucidates A
justice and propriety of the divine command against eati^
Blood.

An unnatural custom prevails universally in Abyssinia, .an
which in early ages seems to have been common MP the who)
» world. I did not think that any person of moderate knowled^
in profane learning could have been ignorant of this remark*
ble custom among the nations of the east. But what still moi
surprised me was the ignorance of part of the law of God, tl
earliest that was given to man, the most frequently noted, insis
ed upon, and prohibited. I have said, in the course of the nai
rative of my journey from Masuah, that, a small distance froi
Axum, I overtook on the way three travellers, who seemed 1
be soldiers, driving a cow before them. . They halted at
brook, thrtw down the beast and one of them cut a pretty larg
collop of flesh from its buttocks, after which they drove the CO'
gently 011 as before. A violent outcry was raised in Englan
at hearing thi? circumstance, which they did not hesitate to pr<
nounce. impossible when tlje manners and customs of Abyssioi
were .to them utterly unknown. The Jesuits established i
Abyssinia for above a hundred years, had told them of that pe<

Nature «ntf Previdente. 1 .39

pie eating, what they call raw meat, in every page ; and if any
wrhgr upon Ethiopia had omitted to mention it, it was because
it was one of those facts too notorious to be re prated.

It must be from prejudice alone we condemn the caiing- of
raw flesh ; no precept, divine or human, that 1 know, forbids
h ; and if it is true, as later travellers have discovered, that
there are nations ignorant of the use of fire, any law against
eating raw flesh could never have^been intended as obligatory
open mankind in general. At any rate, it is certainly not ctear-

known, whether the eating raw flesh was. not an earlier and
more general practice than by preparing it with fire. ; I think it

Jfany wise and learned men have doubted whether it was at
first per mitted to man to eat animal food at all. I do not pre-
tend to give any opinion upon the subject, but many topics
hmve been maintained successfully tipoN much more slender
grounds. God, the author of life, and the best judge of what
was proper to maintain it, gave this regimen to our first parents
——"Behold, 1 have given you every herb bearing sjcd, which
» upon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in which is the
fruit of a tree yielding seed : tOjyou it ^hall be for meat." Gen.
L 29. And though, immediately after, he mentions both beasts
and fowls, and every thing that creepeth upon the earth, he does
not say that he has .designed any of these as meat for man. On
i the contrary he seems to have intended the vegetable creation as
Good for both ftian andjbeast — " And to every beast of the earth
fend to every fowl of the air, and to every thine? that creepeth
upon the earth, wherein there is life, I have given every green
herb for meat : and it was so." Gen. i. 30. After the flood,
When mankind begau to repossess the* earth, God gave Noah a
mnch more extensive permission — 44 Every moving thing that
Hveth shall be meat for you ; even as the green herb have I giv-
en you all things." Gen. ix. 3.

As the criterion of judging of their aptitude for food was de-
clared to be their moving and having life, a danger appeared of
misinterpretation, and that those creatures should be used liv-
*ng; a thing which God by no means intended, and therefore,
immediately after, it is said, " But flesh with the life thereof,
which is the blood thereof, shall you not eat ;" Gen. ix. 4. or,
Wit is rendered by the best interpreters, " Flesh, or members,
"torn from living, animals havinsr the blood in them, thou shalt
"not eat." We see then, by this prohibition, that the abuse«of
Wing living meat, or parts of animals while y»-» alive, was
known in the days of Noah, and forbidden after being so known,
Mid it is precisely what is practised in Abyssinia to this day.—
This law was prior to that of Mo<es, but it came from the same

The Wonders of

legislator. It was given to Noah, and consequently obligator
upon the whole world. Moses, however, insists upon it throng!
out his whole law ; which not only shews that this abuse wa
commop, but that it was deeply rooted in, and interwoven wM
the manners of the Hebrews. He positively prohibits it fim
times in one chapter in Deuteronomy, and thrice in one of th
chapters of Leviticus — " Thou shalt not eat the blood, for th
blood is the life ; thou shalt ponr it upon the earth like water.4
Dent. xii. Lev. xvii.

Although the many instances of God's tenderness to th
brute creation, that constantly occur in the Mosaical precepts
and are a very beautiful part of them, and though the barbarit
of the custom itself might reasonably lead us to think thatJw
inanity alone was a sufficient motive for the prohibition of eal
ing animals alive, Vet nothing can be more certain, than' th
greater consequences were annexed to the indulging in tU
crime than what was apprehended from a mere depravity' c
manners. One* of the most learned and sensible men that eve
wrote upon the sacred scriptures observes, that God, in forbid
ding this practice, uses more severe certification, and mdr
threatening language, than against any other sin, exceptin
idolatry, with which it is constantly joined. God declares, u
will set my face against him that eateth blood, in the same man
ner as 1 will against him that sacrificcth his son to Moloch ;
will set my face against him that eateth flesh with1 blood, till
cut him off from the people." Lev. xvii. 10.

We have an instance in the life of Saulf that shews the pre
pensity of the Israelites to this crime. Saul's army, after a ba
tie, fiew\ that is, fell voraciously upon the cattle they had takei
and threw them upon the ground to cut off their flesh, and ei
them raw, so that the army was defiled by eating blood, or /ma
animals. To prevent this, Saul caused roll to him a great stow
and ordered those that killed their oxen to cut their throats u|
on that stone. This was the only lawful way of killing ahima
for food ; the tying of the ox and throwing it upon the groun
was not permitted as equivalent. The Israelites did probabl
in that case as the Abyssinians do at this day ; they cut a pa
of its throat, so that blood might be seen upon the ground, bi
nothing mortal to the animal followed from that wound. Bi
after laying his hear! upon a large stone, and cutting his throa
the blood fell from on high, or was poured on the ground lit
♦ water, and sufficient evidence appeared that the creature wi
dead, before they attempted to eat it. The Abyssinians can
from Palestine a very few years after this ; and there can be n

* Maimon. inorr. Nrhochitn. -f l Sam. xiv. 32.

Nature and Providence.

Ml

doubt but that they carried with them this, with many other Jew-
ish customs, which they have continued to this day.

The author 1 last quoted says, that il is plain, from all the
books of the eastern nations, that their motive for eating flesh
with the life, or limbs of living animals cut off with the blood,
was the purposes of idolatry, and so it probably had been
among the Jews ; for one of the reasons given in Leviticus for
die prohibition of eating blood, or living flesh, is, that the peo-
ple may no longer offer sacrifices to devils, after whom they
have gone a-whering. Lev. xvii. 7.

That this practice likewise prevailed in Europe, as well as
in Asia and Africa, may be collected from various authors. —
XTie Greeks had their bloody feasts and sacrifices where they
vie living flesh ; these were called Omophagia. Arnobius says,
" Let os pass over (he horrid scenes presented at the Baccha-
nalian feast, wherein, with a counterfeited fury, though with a
truly depraved heart, you twine a number of serpents around
you, and pretending to be possessed with some god, or spirit,
you tear to pieces, with bloody mouths, the bowels of living
goats, which cry all the time from the torture they suffer." —
From all this it appears, that the practice of the Abyssinians
mating live animals at this day, was very far from being new,
or impossible.

1 cannot avoid giving some account of this Polyphemus ban-
quet, as far as decenty will permit me. In the capital, where
one is safe from surprise at all times, or in the country villages,
when the rains have become so constant that the valleys will
not bear a horse to pass them, or that men cannot venture far
&om home through fear of being surrounded and swept away
by temporary torrents, occasioned by sudden showers on the
mountains ; a number of people of the best fashion in the vil-
lages, of both sexes, courtiers in the palace, or citizens in the
town, meet together to dine between twelve and one o'clock.

A long table is set in the middle of a large room, and bench-
es beside it for a number of guests who are invited. A cow or
bull,

one or more, as the company is numerous, is brought
close to the donr, and his feet strongly tied. The skin that
hangs down under his chin and throat, which 1 think we call
the dew-lap in England, is cut only so deep as to arrive at the
&t, of which it totally consists, and, by the separation of a few
small hlood-vessels, six or seven drops of blood only fall upon
the ground. Tliey have no stone, bench, nor altar upon which
thes« cruel assassins lay the animal's head in this operation. I
should beg his pardon indeed for calling him an assassin, as he
is not so merciful as to aim at the life, but, on the contrary, to
tap the beast alive till he be totally eat up. Having satisfied

14-2 The Wonders of

the Mosaical law, according to his conception, by pouring the
six or seven drops upon the ground, two or more of them ft
to work ; on lite back of the beast, and on each side of tl
spine they cut skin-deep ; then putting their fingers between tl
jlesh and skin, they begin to strip the hide off the animal hi
way down his ribs* and so on to the buttock, cutting the iki
wherever it hinders them commodiously to strip the poor an
mal bare. All the flesh on the buttocks is cut off then, audi
solid, square pieces without bones, or much effusion of blood
and the prodigious noire the animal makes is a signal for tfc
company to sit down to table

There are then laid before every guest, instead of pitta
round cakes, about twice as big as a pan-cake, and something
thicker and toucher. It is unleavened bread of a sourish taste
made of ^rain called ti ff. It is of different colours, from blad
to the colour of the whitish wheat-bread. Three or four a
these cakes are generally put uppermost, for the food of A
person opposite to whose seat they are placed. Beneath tbta
are four or .five of ordinary bread, and of a blackish kind>-
Thcse serve the master to wipe his fingers upon ; and afterward
the servant, for bread to his dinner.

Two or three servants then come, each with a square piece 0
beef in their bare hands, laying it upon the cakes of teff, place
like dishes down the table, without cloth or any thing else be
neath them. By this time all the truests have knives in thei
hands, and their men have the lart^e crooked ones, which the;
put to all s n ts of uses during the time of war. The won*
have small clasped knives, such as the worst of the kind mad
at Sheffield.

The company are so ranged that one man sits between t*
women : the man wth his long knife cuts a thin piece, wbi<
woqjjlfrbe thought a good beef-steak in England, while yon *
the motion of the fibres yet perfectly distinct, and alive in tl
flesh. No man in Abyssinia, of any fashion whatever, fe«
himself, or touches his own meat. The women take the steJ
and cut it length-ways like strings, about the thickness of yo
little finger, then cros'sways into square pieces, something sm0
er than dice. This they lay upon a piece of the teff bre*
strongly powdered with black pepper, or Cayenne pepper, fit
fossile-salt, they then wrap it up in the teff bread like a ca
ridge.

In the mean time, the man having put up his knife, with ea
hand resting upon his neighbour's knee, his body stooping, 1
head low and forward, and mouth open very much like an idi
turns to the one whose cartridge is first ready, who stuffs i
whole of it into his mouth, which is so full that he is in U

Nature and Providenct.

14J

ut danger of being choked. This is a mark of grandeur. —
ke greater the man would seem to be, the larger piece he takes
i fail mouth ; and the more noise he makes in chewing it, the
ore polite he is thought to be. They have, indeed, a proverb
tat says, " Beggars and thieves only eat small pieces, or with-
it making a noise." Having dispatched this morsel, which
edoes very expeditiously, his next neighbour holds forth an-
farcartridgc, which goes the same way, so on till he is satified.
le never drinks till he has Gnished eating; and, before he bc-
itt,in gratitude to the fair ones that fed him, he makes up two
sill rolls of the same kind and form ; each of his neighbours
pen their mouths at the same time, while with each hand he
Bts their portion into their mouths. He then falls to drinking
it of 4 large 'horn ; the ladies eat till they are satisfied, and
ten all drink together.

All this time the unfortunate victim at the door is bleeding
deed, but bleeding little. As long as they can cut off the flesh
00 bis bones they do not meddle with the thighs, or the
trts where the great arteries are. At last they fall upon the
ijghs likewise ; and soon after the animal, bleeding to death,
scooies so tough that the cannibals, who have the rest of it to
tt, find very hard work to separate the flesh from the bones
kb their teeth like dogs.

!a account of the Rattle-snake and other wonderful reptiles and
insects, taken from the Rev. John Wesley** survey o) the wis-
dom of God in creation.

The poison of the rattle-snake is e qually fatal with that of
viper, and more swift in its operation ; lor it frequently kills
Win an hour. The snake is in some places 1 5 feet long,
kit whenever it moves in order to bite, the tail begins to rat-
and that considerably loud; so that a man, if he has
fesence of mind, may easily get out of its way. When it kills
bare, he is observed to lick her all over before he takes her
Mo his mouth : probably, that having moistened and smoothed
fersltin, he may the more easily swallow her.

It is very remarkable, that he frequently stays under a tree, on
*hirh a bird oi quirrcl is hopping about, with his mouth wide
}P«i. And tin* evrnt constantly is, tin? creature in a while drops
flto it. Sir Han* Shane thinks, he has wounded it first: and
kuhe then wait* umh r the tree till the poison works, and the
toimal drops down into the mouth of its executioner.
Bm this is not the case, as plainly appears, from what many

U4

' The Wonder's of

have been witnesses of. A swallow pursuing his prey, in the i
if he casts his eye on the snake beneath him, waiting with
mouth wide open, alters his course, and flutters over him hit
utmost consternation, till sinking gradually lower and lower,
at last drops into his mouth.

To the same purpose is the famous experiment of Dr. Spr
ger, mentioned in the Hamburgh magazine. He let loo*
mouse on the ground, at a little distance from a common sua
Tt made a few turns, and squeaked a Hitter, and then randirec
into the mouth of the snake, which all the while lay still, 8
without motion.

The rattle-snake, being less nimble than others, would t
difficulty in getting its prey, were it not for the singular pro
sion made, by the rattle in his tail. When he sees a squii
or bird on a tree, he gets to the bottom, and shakes this inst
ment. The creature looking down, sees the terrible eye of'
snake bent full upon it. It trembles, and never attempts to
. cape, but keeps its eye upon the destroyer, till tired with hi
ping from bough to bough, it falls down, and is devoured,
deed the same power is iu the viper. The field-mice, and otl
animals, which are its nntural food, if they have once seen
eyes, never escape, but either stand still or run into its mouth.

But vipers in general will not eat, after* they are under confii
ment. The viper-catchers throw them together into great bi
where they live many months, though they eat nothing, li
only a female viper, when big with young, that will eat duri
its confinement. 1f a mouse be thrown into the bin, at the t
torn of which forty or fifty vipers are crawling, among wh
one is with young, she alone will meddle with it, and she
immediately. The rest pass it by, without any repard, thoi
it be their natural food. But the female, after she has donel
several times, will at length begin to eye it. Yet she passes
it again, but soon after stops short, and holding her head fac
that of the mouse* seems ready to de.rt at it, which however
never does, but opens her mouth, and brandishes her tong
Her ejes having now met those of the mouse, she never loc
sight of it more ; but they face one another, and the viper
vances with her open mouth, nearer and nearer, till with
making any leap, she takes in the head, and afterwards the wh
b*dy.

> A common snake will avoid a man ; but a rattle-snake ne
turns out of the way. His eye has something so terrible in
that there is no looking steadfastly at him. But he creeps v
slow, with his head close to the ground, so that one may eai
get out of his way. His leaping is no more than uncoiling b
-elf. so that a man is in no danger, if he i* not within the len

J/diure and Pr3ii!lenc£;.

145

of the snake. Neither can he do any barm, unless he first coil,
and then uncoil himself; but both these are done in a moment.

The noise they make is not owing as some inuigine, to little
bones lodged in their tails. But their tail is composed of joints
that lap over one another, like a lobster's, and they make that
noise by striking them one upon another. This is loudest in fair
weather j in rainy weather they make no noise at all. It is re-
markable, that whenever a single snake rattles, all that are with-
in hearing rattle in like manner.

Of how extremely penetrating a nature is their poison ! A man
provoking one of them to bite the edge of his brcad-axe, the
colour of the steeled part presently changed ; and at the first
stroke he made with it in his work, the discoloured part broke
out leaving a gap in the axe.

A gentleman in Virginia has lately given a particular account
of what he felt after being bit by one of them.

" Hearing," says he, " a bell upon the top of a steep hill, which
1 knew to be on one of the cows of the people where I then quar-
tered, I went right up thohill ; but near the top my foot slipped,
tad brought me down upon my knees. 1 laid my hand on a broad
•tone to stay myself; I suppose the snake lay on the other side, v
wfao bit my hand in an instant, then slid under the ground, and
founded his rattles. But I soon found him, crushed his head to
pieces with a stone, took him up in my left hand, and ran home,
lucking the wound on my right hand, and spitting out the poison.
This kept it easy : but my tongue and my lips grew stiff and
Dumb, as if they were froze. When I came home one presently
ripped a fowl open, and bound it upon my hnnd. This eased me
^ little. I kept my elbow bent and my fingers up, which kept the
poison from my arm. Another bruised some turmeric, and bound
it rpund my arm, to keep the poison in my hand. This kept rriy
ferm easy for some hours ; and my hand, though numb, was not
■Kluch swelled, nor even painful ; but about midnight it puffed up
o» a sudden, and grew furious, till I slit my fingers with a razor.
I also slit the back of my hand, and cupped it, and drew out a
*l«art of slimy stuff; yet my arm swelled. Then I got it tied so
*«tj that it was almost void of feeling, yet would it work, writhe, »
jump, and twine like a snake, change colours, and be spotted.
-And the spots moved to and fro upon the arm, which grew pain-
ful at the bone. All things were applied for two days which could

thought on ; but without effect, till the ashes of white ash-bark,
**>ade into a plaistcr with vinegar, drew out the poison. We then
**fltied the arm ; but within two hours all my right side turned
yet it did not swell, nor pain me. I bled at the mouth
*°on after, and continued bleeding and feverish four days. The
T**in raged in mv arm, and I was betimes delirious for an hour

19

146

The Wonders of

or two. After nine days the fever went ; but my hand and i
were spotted like a snake all the summer. In autum my i
swelled, gathered and burst, so away went poison, spots and
" But the most surprising circumstance was my dreams,
all sickness before, these were always pleasant. But now
were horrid. Often I was rolling among old logs ; someti
I wap a white oak cut in pieces. Frequently my feet woul
growing into two hickory trees : so that it was a terror to
to think of going to sleep."

An account of the Salamander. It is a reptile of the lizard k

[By John Wesley, LL. D.]

The Salamander is supposed to live in fire ; but without
ground. It is indeed generally found in the chinks of gl
houses, or near furnaces, where the heat is so great, that no oi
animal could endure it, without being destroyed in a fewminn
But some years ago the trial was made by several gentleo
whether it could really live in fire. Some charcoal was kind
and the animal laid upon the burning coals. Immediatel
emitted a blackish liqnour, which entirely quenches them. T
lighted more coals, and laid it upon them. It quenched tl
a second time in the same manner. But being presently
on a fire, it was in a short time burnt to ashes.

An account of the water Salamander.
[By John Wesley, LL. D.]

A particular species of water lizards, abbe Spallanzani it
an aquatic salamander. Yet, he observes, this cannot 1
any great degree either of he?* or cold. But the most remai
ble circujnstance relating to it, is, that let its tail, legs or <
jaws be cut away, and in a short time they are reproduce*
The tail, beside a complete apparatus of nerves, muscles, gla
arteries and veins, has vertebrae of real bone. And their leg
nat differ from those of the most perfect animals, in the nan
of bopes, whereof they are composed.

Now, when the legs and tail of this animal are taken av
new vertebrae, new bones are produced : a phenomenon as w
derftd as any hitherto known. This takes place in every kn<

JVatiirejtnd -Providence.

147

5 ' species of salamanders, at any period of their life, on the earth
1 or in the water ; and let the length of the divided parts be great-
I eror less. Nor do the constituent parts of the new tail differ
from those of the part that was cut, either in number, structure
or connection. But a whole year is scarce sufficient to render
the new part equal to that which was cut off. Indeed, the re-
generating power ceases during the winter half year.

When the part reproduced is cut off, it is succeeded by anoth-
er, which proceeds in the same manner as the former, and this a
second, a third or fourth time : the salamander still forming
new parts by the same unalterable laws.

There are in the legs of a salamander ninety and nine bones.
In the four regenerated legs there is the same number. The
form and internal structure of the reproduced bones, and of the
natural are the same. But the colour of the new bones, is some-
what different, and their substance more tender. And all these
parts are reproduced in the same manner, and at the same time,
•kether the creature is fed, or kept fasting.

When their jaws are cut off, the same thing happens. New
bones are reproduced, new teeth, new cartilages, veins and ai>
Series. Wesley's survey of the wisdom of God.

A* account of the Tarantula, and of the effects of music, in fro*
during a cure upon the person stung.

[By John Wesley, LL. D.]

| The Tarantula is a kind of spider, chiefly found near the
city of Tarentum, in Apulia. It is about the size of an acorn,
and has eight eyes and eight feet. Its skin is hairy ; from its
mouth rise two trunks, a little crooked and exceeding sharp.
Through these it conveys its poison : they seem likewise to be a
kind of moveable nostrils, being in continual motion, especially
when it is seeking its food. It is found in other parts of Italy,
tat is dangerous only in Apulia. And there it does little hurt
in the mountains, which are cooler, but chiefly on the plains.
Indeed it is not venomous, but in the heat of summer, particu-
larly in the dog days. It is then so enraged as to fly upon any
Am comes within its reach.

The bite causes a pain, like that of the stinging of a bee. In
» few hours the patient feels a numbness, and the part is marked
*ith a strong lived circle, which soon rises into a painful tumour.
A little after he falls into a deep sadness, breathes with much

( difficulty, hi* pulse grows feeble and his senses dull. At length

Tht tt** it J fit*

lie loses all sense and motion and dies unless speedily reliev
An aversion to blue and black, and an affection for white,
and green, are "other unaccountable symptoms of its disorder

There is -no remedy but one. While he lies senseless 3
motionless, a musician plays several tunes. When he biti
the right, the patient immediately begins to make a faint moti
His fingers first move in cadence, then his feet : then his h
and by degrees his whole body. At length he rises on hi*£
and begins to dance, which some will do for six hours with
intermission. After this he is put to bed, and wheu his stren
js recruited, is called up bv the same tune to a second dance.

This is continued for : ix or seven (leys at least, till he if
weak that he can dance no longer! This is the sign of his be
cured; for if the poison acted still,* he would dance till be dr
down dead. When he is thoroughly tired he awakes as ou
sleep, without rcmeraberiug any thing that is past. And sol
times he is totally cured ; but ifnot he finds a melancholy glw
shuns -men, seeks water, and if not carefully watched, el
leaps into a river. In some the disorder returns that time twe
month, perhaps twenty or thirty years. And each, time i
removed as at first.

Equally unaccountable are the two relations published sc
years since, by a physician of undoubted credit. The firsl
a gentleman was seized with a violent fever, attended wit
delirium. On the third day lie begged to hear a little concer
his chamber. It w as w ith great difficulty the physician consent
From the first tune, his face assumed a serene air, his eyes w
no longer wild, and the convulsions ceased. He was fiee ft
the fever during the concert ; but when that was ended, it
turned. The remedy was repeated, and both the delirium «
fever always ceased during the concerts. In ten days, mi
wrought an entire cure, and he relapsed no more.

The other case is that of a dancing master, who. tbroi
fatigue, fell into a violent fever. On the fourth or fifth day
was seized with a lethargy, which after some time chanj
into a furious delirium. He threatened all that were pres<
and obstinately refused all the medicines that were offered h
One of them saying, that perhaps music might a little comp
his imagination ; a friend of his took up his violin, and begai
play on it. The patient started up in bis bed, like one agreea
surprised, and shewed by his head (his arms being held)
pleasure he felt. Those who held his arms, finding the efft
of the violin, loosened their hold, and let him move them,
cording to the tunes. In about a quarter of an hour he
into a deep sleep. When he awoke he was out of all dange

Wc have many other odd accounts of the power of raus

Xaiure and liiwidtnce. „ 140,

and it must not be denied, but that on some particular occasions,
wiusical sounds may have a very powerful effect. I have seen all
the horses and cows in the field, where there were above a hundred
gathering round a person that was blowing a French horn, and
seeming to testify an awkward Jrind of satisfaction. Dogs are
weft known to be very sc nsible of different tones in mu*ic; and
I have sometimes heard them sustain a very ridiculous part in
t concert.

The great old lion which was some years since kept at the
. infirmary in Edinburgh, while lie was rearing with the utmost
fierceness, no sooner heard a bag-pip* thin, ail l is herctnesa
ceased. He laid his car close to t\w front uf the d-.i;, nibbed his
note and teeth against the end of hi* pipe, and then rolled
ipon his back for very glee. 1 have seen a German flute have
tbewne effect on an old lion and a young tyger in the tower
of London.

There is found in America a kind of spider more mischiev-
ous than even the tarantula, chiefly in the vallies of Neyba, and
others within the jurisdiction of Popayan. It is called a coya.
It is much less than a bug, and is of a fiery red colour. It is
found in the corners of walls and among the herbage. On
squeezing it, if any moisture from it falls on the skin of either
•lan or beast, it immediately penetiates the flesh, and causes
inrge tumours, which are soon followed by death.

The only remedy is, on the first appearance of a swelling, to
*inge the- person all over with a flame of straw, or of the long
grass growing on those plains. This the Indians perform with
S?reat dexterity, some holding him by the feet, others by the
bands.

Travellers here are warned by their Indian guides, if they feel
*ny thing crawl on their neck or face, not even to lilt their hand,
the coya being so delicate a texture, that it would immediately
burst. But let thein tell the Indian what they feel, and he comes
blows it away.

The beasts which feed there, are taught by instinct, before
*bey touch the herbage with their lips, to blow on it with all
*heir force, in order to clear it of these pernicious vermin. And
^hen their smell informs thi m, that a coya's nest is near, they
^mediately leap and run to some other part. Yet sometimes a
**ittle, after all his care, has taken in a coya with his pasture.
In this case after swelling to a frightful degree, it expires upon
the spot.

1&>

Thfi WoniUrs *f

An account of the fossil Asbestos, from which a kind of doth 1
manufactured invulnerable to fire,

[Mcth. Mag. — Eng.]

The most extraordinary of all fossils is the asbestos. J
seems to be a species of alabaster, and may be drawn into ft*
silky threads of a greyish or silvery colour. It is indisiolubl
in water, and remains unconsumcd even in the flame of a far
nace.

A large burning glass, indeed, will reduce it to glass globules
but common fire only whitens it. Its threads are from one to la
inches long, which may be wrought into a kind of cloth. Thi
the ancients esteemed as precious as pearls. They uiebVij
chiefly in making shrouds for emperors or kings, to present
their ashes distinct from that of the funeral pile. And the pri»
ces of Tartary at this day apply it to the same use. The widu
for their perpetual lamps were likewise made of it. A baaA
kerchief of this was long since presented to the royal society
It was twice thrown into a strong fire, before several gentle*
men. But in the two experiments it lost not above two drachm
of its weight. And what was very remarkable, when it wai
red hot, it did not burn a piece of white paper on which it wmi
laid. .

But there is a kind of asbestos wholly different from that knowi
to the ancients. It is found so far as we yet know, only in tin
county of Aberdeen, in Scotland. In the neighbourhood o
Achintore, on the side of a hill, in a somewhat boggy soil, abou
< the edges of a small brook, there is a space ten or twelve yard
square, hi which pieces of fossile wood petrified lie very thick
Near this place, if the ground be dug into with a knife, there i
found a sort of fibrous matter, lying a little below the surface c
the ground, among the roots of the grass. This the knife wil
not cut: and on examination it proves to be a true asbestos. ]
lies in loose threads, very soft and flexible, and is not injure
by the fire.

Yet it is sometimes collected into parcels, and seems to form :
compact body. When this, however, is more nearly examinee
it appears not to be a real lump, but a congeries resembling
pledget of pressed lint, and being put into water, it separate
into its natural loose threads.

A stranger discovery still has been lately made. The proprie
tor of a forge, upon taking down his furnaces to repair then
found at the bottom, a great quantity of a substance, which upo
repeated trial, effectually answered all the uses of the asbestoi

J 61

It was equally well manufactured either into linen or paper, and
equally well endured the fire. Upon prosecuting the inquiry, it
appeared to him, that both the native asbestos (at least one spe-
cies of it) and this obtained from the forge, were nothing more,
than what he terms calcined iron, deprived, whether by nature
or by art, of its inflammable part: and that by, uniting the in-
flammable part, either with this, or the fossile asbestos, it may at
anytime be restored to its primitive state of iron.

But h is certain, there is asbestos which has no relation to
iron. Both in Norway and Siberia, there are petrifying wa-
ters which, pervading the pores of wood lying therein, fill it
with stony particles ; and when by a caustic, corrosive power,
derived from lime, they have destroyed the wood, a proper as-
bestos remains, in the form of a vegetable, which is now no
mort. To which of these does the following belong ?

Signor Mareo Antonio Castagna, superintendent of some
nines in Italy, has found in one of them a great quantity of li-
mn asbestum. tie can prepare it so as to make it like either a
my white skin, or a very white paper. Both these resist the
Most violent fire. The skin was covered with kindled coals
for some time : being taken out, it was soon as white as before :
anther had it lost any thing of its weight. The paper also
Wis tried in the fire, and without any detriment. Neither could
ay change be perceived, either with regard to its whiteness,
faeness, or softness.

The following adventure of a tame stork some years ago in
the university of Tubingen, seems to shew a degree of under-
standing, which one would scarce expect in the brute creation.
This bird lived quietly in the court yard, till count Victor Gra-
vtoitz, then a student there, shot at a stork's nest, adjacent to
the college, and probably wounded the stork then in it. This
happened in Autumn, when foreign storks usually leave Germa-
ny. The next spring a stork was observed on the roof of the
allege, which after a time came down to the upper gallery
the next day something lower, and at last, by degrees, quite in-
to the court. The tame stork went to meet him with a soft,
dteerfal note, when the other fell upon him with the utmost fury.
The spectators drove him away ; but he came again the next
<fey, un«l during the whole summer there were continual sfcir-

Sitigular adventure of a taint Stork*
[Meth. Mag. — Eng.]

112

IVic JVon3ers of

wishes between them. Tlie spring following, iustead of
stork, came four, and attacked him all at once. A surprise, mg
event followed. All the turkies, ducks and geese, that v^re
brought up in the court ran together, and formed a kind of
rampart round him, against so unequal a combat. This secur-
ed him for the present But in the beginning of the third spring
about twenty storks suddenly alighted in the court, and before
the poor stork's life-guards could form themselves, or the peo-
ple come to his assistance, they left him dead on the spot;
which none could impute to any thing but the shot fired bj
count Victor at the strange stork's nest.

An account of the Polypus, a wonderful production of them \
it is a kind of animal which possesses life in every part, ami it
capable, if cut into many pieces-, of forming itself into a distort
animal of its kind again — and shows, though ruined and St*
member ed, that it can assume its former power, and repopuhte
and lite*

[By John Wesley, LL. D.]

Look into this rivulet, whose bottom is covered with broken j
pieces of plants: wliat do you perceive upon them? Spots rf ;
raouldiness. Do not mistake : this mouldiness is not what it
appears to be ; and you already begin to suspect so ; you think
that you greatly ennoble them by advancing them to the rank
of vegetable* ; you conjecture they are plants in miniature, that
have their flowers and seeds, and plume yourself on being abte
to judge of these mouldinesses in a different manner from the
vulgar. Take a magnifying glass : what do you discover ?-*"
Some very pretty nosegay, all the flowers of which are in bells-
Each bell is supported by a small stalk, which is implauted in *
Common one ; you now no longer doubt of the truth of y°^*
conjecture, and cannot be persuaded to quit this microscopy
parterre. You have not however sufficiently observed it. L^ln
stedfastly on the aperture of one of these bells ! you +r*
there perceive a very rapid motion, which you cannot be we**^
of contemplating, and which you compare to that of a mill--"""-'
This motion excites little currents in the .water, <!hat convey
wards the bell a multitude of corpuscles, which it swallows
You begin to doubt whether these bells arc real flowers ;
the motions of the stalks which appear to be spontaneous, *
crease your suspicions. Continue your observations: nat*1-^
herself will teach you what you ought to think of this simrf' *

Nature and Frouidence.

(taction, and will furnish you with fresh motives for adrair-
the fecundity nf her ways. That is a bell that detaches it-
from the cluster, and that floats along in order to fix itself
ome support. Follow it. A short pedicle issues from its ex-
nity : and the bell fastens itself by the end of this pedicle.- —
engtheus and becomes a little stalk. It is no longer a nose-
f you are beholding, it is a single llower. Redouble your
mtion ; .you are just arrived at the most interesting moment
inspection. The flower is closed, has lost its form of a bell,
I assumed that of a bud. You perhaps suspect that this bud
ome fruit, or a seed that has succeeded to the flower : for you
loth to give up your first conjecture. Do not lose sight of
i bud ; it is now divided by degrees according to its length,
I the stalk is at present supplied with two buds less than the
t. Examine what passes in both of them. They widen them-
tes insensibly, and you perceive a motion at the edge of the
uing, which increases in swiftness in proportion aj*fhe bud
bids itself. The mill appears again, and the two fflids have
imed the form of a bell. Can a fruit, which changes into
'ers, be a real fruit ? Can such flowers be real flowers, that
How little insects ? Suspend your observations, and repeat
n a few hours hence. Your flowers are closed up as the first
; you easily guess that they will separate themselves as be-
, afterwards open, and present you with four bells. That is
ady effected, and you have a little nosegay, composed of
• flowers. If you continue your inspection, you will see
n augment in bulk by new divisions in two's and soon after
will count sixteen, thirty-two, sixty-four flowers. — Such
le oriecin of this microscopical parterre, which at first drew
r attention : how much more admirable does it now appear
1 you then conceived it to be ! What a group of wonders
s a single spot of mouldiness afford ! What unforeseen, va-
, and interesting scenes, are trnnsacted on a scrap of rotten
k1 ! What a theatre does it exhibit to a thinking being ! but
abode is so recluse, that we have but a glimmering view of
how great would our rav ishment be, if the whole spectacle
'losing itself at once to us, we should be enabled to penetrate
> the interior structure of this wonderful assemblage of liv-
atoms ! Our blunted eyes discover only the most striking
ts of them ; they only apprehend the gross parts of the deco-
ons, whilst the machines that execute them remain conceal-
in impenetrable darkness ! Who shall enlighten this profound
curitv ? Who shall dive into this abyss where reason itself
ost. Who draw from thence the treasures of wisdom and
wlcdgc concealed within it ? Let us learn to be content with
small portion communicated to us. and contemplate with

164

The Wonder* •/

gratitude those first traces of human understanding imparled
to us, towards a world placed at such a great distance from u.

You cannot quit this spring, from whence you have derhred
- so many troths that are so astonishing. You discover it in other
microscopical animals, whose form resembles that of a funnel.
These are likewise polypuses. They do not compose a cluster;
but cleave to some body by their inferior extremity ; you ate
curious to know their method of multiplying. In order to this,
place your microscope on one of these funnels. Of a single
ftinnel, there are formed two by a natural division ; but yerj,
different from that of bell-poly puses ; so far has nature thought
fit to Vary her proceedings with respect to these animals. Ex-,
amine what passes in the middle of the funnel. A transverse
and oblique stripe indicates to you the part where the polypni
is about to divide itself. The division then is made slopingty*
Hie stripe points out the edges of the new funnel, and these
are only the lips of the fresh polypus. You discover in them
a pretty slow motion, which helps you to discern them. They
approach each other insensibly, the body collects itself by de-
grees ; a little swelling forms itself on the side, which is a Dew
head. You already clearly distinguish two polypuses placed
above each other. The upper polypus has the former head
and a new tail ; the inferior one a new head and the former tail*
The upper polypus is connected with the other only by its lower
extremity. By amotion it gives itself, it is at last detached from
the other ; and floats away in order to fix elsewhere. The in-
ferior polypus remains fastened to the place where the funnel
was before the division.

Net-polypuses likewise derive their name from the exterior
form of their bodies ; they pretty nearly resemble that of a
- fishing-net. They assemble in groups, and fasten on all the
bodies they meet with in fresh water. They are very transpa-
rent. In the inside of the polypus there is formed an oblong
and whitish body. As soon as it is formed, it descends by de» r
grees, shews itself on the outside, and remains fixed perpen^
dicularly on the polypus. It produces new ones every day;
and the group they compose on the exterior part of the poly-
pus, increases in growth. If these minute bodies be eggs, they
are of a singular species ; they are absolutely without any
covering, and are neither membraneous or crustaceous. We
cannot affirm of these eggs, that ycung are hatched from them,
but are under a necessity of acknowledging,* that these little
oviform bodies unfold themselves. This developement is ac-
complished in a tew minutes, and the polypus becomes the same
as its mother: imagine to yourself a bird that should issue
from its mother's belly, entirely naked, rolled together like

JVature- and Providence. 165

ball, whose members should afterwards display themselves,
id you will have a representation of the production of net-
ilypuses.

Closter-polypuses propagate by dividing in the middle ; arm-
deposes do not multiply in this manner. They bring forth
or young almost as a tree shoots forth its branches. A little
til appears on the side of the polypus. Do not suppose that
ik bud contains a polypus, as the vegetable bud comprises a
mch ; it is itself the polypus in its growth. It increases in
vt tod length, and at last separates from its mother. Whilst
ii united to her, they both compose one body, as the branch
ih the tree. You are to understand this in the strictest sens?,
be prey, which the mother swallows, passes immediately into
ir young, and imparts the same colour to it. So that the whole
esuts of one little bowel in a great extent. The prey which
e young one seizes, (for it fishes for it as soon as it has arms) "
isses in like manner into the mother. They nourish each
ber reciprocally.

Tfiere is scarcely any polypus without buds. All of them
erefore are so many polypuses, or so many shoots that grow
a common trunk. Whilst they art unfolding, they them-
!res send forth smaller shoots, and these smaller still. They
extend their arms #>n both sides. You think you are behold-
; a very bushy tree. The nourishment received by one of
se shoots, is soon communicated to all the rest, and to their
nmon mother ; the chief of the society and the members are
b. The society is dissolved by little and little, the members
>arate themselves, are dispersed, and each shoot becomes in
turn, a little genealogical tree.

Such is the natural method by which the arm-polypus multi-
es. It may also be multiplied by slips. There is no need to
ntion, that when it is cut in pieces, each piece, in a short time
comes a perfect polypus. It were better to say at once, that
i polypus, after being cut into small pieces, rises again from
rains, and the little fragments yield as many polypuses,
ing cut either in length or width, this extraordinary animal
re-produced in the same manner, and the sources of life are
Dally inexhaustible.

But the following is what fable itself has not presumed to hi-
nt: briii£ to their trunk the heads that have been stwuck off,
?y will reunite to it, and you will restore to the polypus its
ad. You may also, if you think proper, affix to it the head
another potypus. The mutilated parts of the same or dif-
rent polypuses, when placed end to end, will untie in like man-
T» and form only a single polypus.

What have I hitherto said ? There is scarce amy mirade

The Wonders of

that may not be performed by means of the polypus ; but mi
cles, when multiplied to so great a degree, hardly appear to
such. A polypus may be introduced by its hind part into 1
body of another polypus. The two individuals unite, th
heads become ingrafted into each other : and the polyp
which at first was double, is converted into a single polypi
that eats, grows and multiplies.

I have compared the polypus to the finger of a globe : th
finger may be turned inside out : so may the polypus likewit
and being so shifted, can fish, swallow, and multiply , by sHj
and shoots. t

It will be easily believed that the polypus 'does not like I
remain thus shifted. It makes an -effort to regain its form
position, and frequently succeeds either in part, or altogcJte
The polypus, which is partly turned back again as at first, Is
real Proteus, that assumes all kinds of forms, which area
equally strange. Endeavour to represent to yourselves the pd]
pus thus turned again. You remember that the insect is one
in the form of a bowel. One part of the bowel then is tort*
backwards on the other ; it there fastens and engrafts itself. 1
that case, the polypus is as it were double. The mouth «
compasses the body like a fringed girdle ; the arms are tl
fringe. They then point towards the tail. The forepart eta
tinues open : the other is usually shut up. You expect I
doubt, to see a new head and new arms, to grow out of tl
forepart ; which you have observed in all the polypuses A
have been divided transversely. But the polypus combines i
self a thousand different ways, and each, combination htl i
consequences, which experience alone can discover to yb
The forepart closes itself ; it becomes a supernumerary ta
The polypus, which was at first extended in the right line,
curved more and more. The supernumerary tail lightens eve
day. The two tails resembles the feet of a pair of compassf
The compasses are partly open. The ancient mouth is at tl
head of the compasses. This mouth which is fastened to tl
body, and embraces it like a ring, cannot discharge its fall
tions. What then must become of the unfortunate polyp
with two tails and without a head ? How will it be able
live? Do you think that you have taken nature at unawares
You are mistaken. Towards the upper part of the polyp«
near the ancient lip, there are forming not only a single mout
but several ; and this polypus, concerning which you inquire
a minute ago how it could exist, is now a species of hydr
with several heads and mouths, and devours with all the
mouths.

•mYature and Fronidence. i57

An account of the phenomena of Meteors and other fires, which
arise from minerals in the earth, such as taverns, wells, and
deep cellars.

[Meth. Mag. — Eng.]

Among fiery meteors are reckoned, thunder, lightning, ignis
btoi, lambent flames, and what are called falling stars. Un-
less we account for these (as indeed it is easy to do) upon the
principles of electricity, we must suppose they are owing to sul-
phureous or bituminous particles, floating in the air, which
then collected in sufficient quantities, take fire by various
Beans. If a large quantity of inflammable vapour takes fire
it once, the flame tears the cloud with incredible force, as well as
W immense noise. But the light moving quicker than the sound,
isseen before that is heard. Sometimes an exhalation of a
milder kind takes fire, and produces lightning without thunder.
When it thunders and lightens, it commonly rains too, the
tune shock driving together and condensing the clouds. And
the wisdom of God appoints it so, for the preservation of his
creatures. For if lightning falls on one who is thoroughly
vet, it does him no harm at all. Not that the water quenches
flr resists the fire ; but it conveys it into the ground.

High places are most frequently struck with lightning if they
have sharp points, as spires of churches, or tops of trees, which
M it were, attract the fire. It sometimes burns the clothes
without hurting the body ; sometimes breaks the bones without
scorching the skin. It melts the sword in the scabbard, or
money in the pocket, while the scabbard or pocket remains as
it was. In general, it passes innocently through those things
that make little or no resistance ; but tear those in pieces with
impetuous force which resist its passage.

One very particular effect of lightning, is what the vulgar
call fairy circles. These are of two kinds. One kind is a
round, bare path, about a foot broad, with green grass in the
middle, and is frequently seven or eight yards in diameter. The
other is a circle of the same breadth, is very green grass, much
fresher than that in tin* middle These are generally observed
after storms of thunder and lightning. And it is no wonder,
that lightning, like other fires, move circularly, and bums
more at the extremity than in the middle. The second kind
°f circles, without all doubt, spring originally from the first :
the grass, which was burnt by the lightning, growing after-
ward more fresh and green.

But of what kind was that meteor which appeared March 21,
1676 ? Two hours after sunset, it came over the Adriatic sea.

The Wonders o f

from E. N. E. to W. S. W. and crossed over all Italy, being
, nearly vertical at Rimini on the one side; and Leghorn on the
other. It was at least thirty-eight miles high. In all places
near its course, it made a hissing noise like a sky rocket. Hav-
ing passed' Leghorn, it gave a sound like that of a large cannon,
and quickly after like a cart, running over stones. It was
computed to move one hundred and sixty miles in a minute,
which is about ten times as swift as the diurnal motion of the
earth. Its smallest diameter was judged to f>e above half a
mile. No wonder, then, that so large a body, moving with
such incredible swiftness through the stir, though so much rati-
fied, should cause that hissing noise. It is much harder to coar
ceive, how such an impetus could be impressed upon it : how
this impetus should be determined, in a direction so nearly
parallel to the horizon ! And what sort of substance it mart
be, that* could be so impelled and ignited at the same time f
Whatever it was, it sunk, and was extinguished in the Tyrrhene
sea, to the W. S. VV. of Leghorn. The great noise was heard,
on its immersion into the water, and the rattling sound upon
its quenching.

On Thursday, March 19, 1719, there appeared at London,
about eight at night, a sudden great light, moving after die
manner, but more slowly thaiva falling star, in a direct line, a
little beyond and with all below Orion's Belt, then in the south
west. In its way, it turned tapering upward, jand at last sphe-
rical, near as big as the full moon. It was whitish, wkh
eye of blue, as bright as the sun in a clear day. It seemed in
half a minute to move twenty degrees, and to go out as much
above the horizon. There remained after it, for more than a
minute, a track of reddish colour, such as that of red hot iron ;
and sparks seemed to issue from it, such as come from red hot
iron, beaten upon an anvil.

Within doors the candles gave no light ; and without, not
only the stars disappeared, but the moon, nine days old, though
the sky was clear, and she was then near the meridian : so that
for some seconds, we had perfect day. lis height was seventy-
three miles and a half. Hence it might be seen in all places,
which were not distant from it more than two hundred and
twenty leagues. Accordingly, it was seen, at the same instant
over Spain, France, Great Britian, Ireland, Holland, and the
hither parts of Germany.

Another appearance, which resembles lightning, in the aurora
borealis, commonly called northern lights. This is usually of
a reddish colour, inclining to yellow, and sends out corusca-
tions of bright light, which seem to rise from the horizon in a
pyramidical form, and shoot with great velocity into the zenith.

Nature and Providence.

15V

It appears frequently, in the form of an arch, rises far above the
regions of the clouds, yet never appears near the equator, but
always nearer the poles.

Vapours of the same kind, that give rise to lightnings in the
air, occasion damps in the earth. The damps usual in mines
are of four sorts. The approach of the first and most common
is known by the flame of the candle lessening till it goes out :
as also by the men's difficulty of breathing. Those who escape
swooning are not much hurt by this : but those who swoon
away, are commonly on their recovery seizeti with strong con-
vulsions. The second is the peasbloom damp, so called because
of its smell. This comes only in summer, and is common in
die Peak of Derbyshire. They who have seen the third sort
of damp, describe it thus : in the highest part of the roof of those
passages in a mine, which branch out from the main grove, a
round thing hangs about as big as a football, covered with a
thin skin. If this be broken, the damp immediately spreads,
tad suffocates all that arc near. But sometimes they contrive
to break it at a distance ; after which they purify the place with
fire. The fourth is the firedamp : a vapour, which if touched
hy the flame of a candle, takes fire, and goes off like gunpow-
- dir. And yet some who have had all their clothes burnt off by
one of these, and their flesh torn off their bones, at the very
(imp felt no heat at all, but as it were a cool air.
. Sir James Lowther, having collected some of the air in blad-
ders, brought it up to London. Being let out at the orifice
through a tobacco-pipe, it would take fire at the flame of a can-
dle. And even this is emitable by art. Most metals emit sul-
phureous vapours, whilp they are dissolving in their several
menstruums. Iron, for instance, while it dissolves in oil of
vhrol, emits much sulphureous vapour. If this be r^< !^»d
into a bladder, and afterwards let out in a small stream, it takes
fire. just in the same manner as the natural vapour.

This experiment explains one cause of earthquakes and vol-
eanos; since, it appears hence, that nothing more is necessary
to form them, than iron mixed with vitriolic arid and water.
Now iron is generally found accompanied with sulphur : and
sulphur consists of an inflammable oil. and an acid like oil of
vitriol.

t This acid in the bowels of the earth, being diluted with a
little water, becomes a menstruum to iron, with a violent effer-
vescence and an intense*, heat. The air eomin^ from this mix-
tore is extremely rarefied, and the more it is compressed by the
toeumbent earth, so mucji the more its impetus will be increased
to an unlimited decree. Nor does there need tire to set these,
^pours to work. The air in the bladder, if it be much heated*

100

The Hinders of

will of itself take fire, as soon as it is brought into contact w
the external air.

Other damps are sometimes as mortal as those in mines,
the year 1701, a mason being at work in the city of Rear
near the brink of a well, let his hammer fall into it. A labou
Vho was sent down for it, was suffocated before he reached
water. A seconJ sent to draw him up, met with the same, ft
So did a third. At last a fourth, half drunk, was let dowo w.
a charge to call out immediately, if he felt any inconvenient
He did call, as soon as he came near the water, and was drai
up instantly. Yet he died in three days, crying out, he fell
heat, which scorched his entrails. Yet the three carcases bA
drawn up with hooks, and opened, there appeared no cause
their death.

The same historians relate, that a baker of Chartres, havil
carried seven or eight bushels of brands out of his oven, into
cellar thirty-six stairs deep, his son, a strong young fellow, g
ing with more, his candle went out on the middle of the surii
Having lighted it afresh, he no sooner got into the cellar, th
he cried for help, and they heard no more of him. His bi
ther, an able youth, ran down, cried, " 1 am dead," an1 n
heard no more. He was followed by his wife, and she by
' maid, and still it was the same. Yet a hardy fellow resolv
to go and help theft) : he cried too, and was seen no more,
sixth man desired a hook to draw some of them out. He dr
up the maid, who fetched a sigh and died. Next day one v
dertook to draw up the rest, and was let down on a wood
horse with ropes, to be drawn up whenever he should call. I
soon called, bui the rope breaking, lie feil back again, and f
awhile after drawn up dead. 'Upon opening him, theme
branes of the brain were extremely stretched, his lungs spot
with blood, his intestines swelled as big as one's arm, and i
as blood, and all the muscles of his arms, thighs and legs, U
and separated from their bones.

Whence \his strange difference should arise, that the vapoi
of some mines catch fire with a spark, and others only w
a' flame, is a question that we must content to leave in <
scurity, till we know more of the nature both of mineral i
pour and fire. This only we may observe, that gunpowi
will fire with a spark, but not with the flame of a caudle:
the other hand, spirits of wine will flame like a candle, but i
with a spark. But even here the cause of this difference
mains a secret.

A like instance of the fatal nature of foul air, happened
Boston,, in New-England. Mr. Adams and his servant bei
employed to repair a pump, uncovered the well, and Mr. A

Nature and Providence. 161

ams went down by a rope ; but he had not gone six feM before
he dropt suddenly without speaking a word, to the upper part
of the joint of the pump, where being supported about a minute/
and breathing very short, he then fell to the bottom, without
uy signs of life. His servant hastily went down to help his
■aster ; but at the same distance from the top, was struck, and
without discovering any signs of distress, fell to the bottom.
The workmen prepared a third, with a tackle about the waist.
On his descent, he was quickly speechless and senseless. Though
be made no sign, they drew him up. He was the very picture
of death, but by the use of proper means recovered. He re-
membered nothing of what had passed. The other bodies when
taken up, had all the marks of a violent death.

An account of the Phenomenon of Ignis Fatuu*, vulgarly called,
untt-withrthe-wisp, or the Jack-a-lantern.

[Mcth. Mag. — Eng.]

Ignis fatuus, vulgarly called will-with-the-wisp, is chiefly
wen in dark nights, irregularly moving over meadov*, marshes,
tod other moist places. It seems to be a viscous exhalation,
which being kindled in the air, reflects a kind of thin -flame in
the dark, though without any sensible heat. It is often found to
fly along rivers or hedges, probably because it there meets with
a stream of air to direct it. In Italy there are luminous appear-
ances, nearly resembling these,- which on a clo*e inspection, have
been fonid to be no other thin swarms of shiniug flies.

In all the territories of Bologna, these fiery appearances are
common There are some places wh* re one may be almost
sure of them every dark ni«xht, as near the Bridge Delia Salca-
rata, and in the fields of B.ignara; these are large: sometimes
«IUal to the licrht of a faggot, rarely less than that of a link. —
That at Bagnara not long since kept a gentleman company for
*mile, moving put before him, and citing a stronger light on
the road than the link he had with Vim ♦

All of them resemble a flame, and are continually *uf motion,
W the motion is various and uncertain. In winter, when the
Kfound is covered with snow, they are most frequent of all.
Nor does rain hinder them: nay, in wet weather they give the
strongest light; wind also does not disturb them. As they are
wot hindered by wet, arid set nothing on fire, though ever so
combustible, mav it not reasonably he supposed, that thev have

U *

The fVonders *f

some resemblance to that kind of phosphorus, which shines^
deed in the dark, yet does not burn like common fire?

The following experiments shew a little more of the natures
this strange substance.

Salt of phosphorus, kept in a vitrifying heat, at last runs if
i i) .'.-feet glass. W iar a .vo i lerful subject is this? And in
;;n prising it is, that so mtlam naljle a bod v should become gla*
Ll -iv men is a perfect tran^ nutation of bodies: the phosphor
oeit!-; transmuted into a trmisparen class of a bluish gre
v> :>m , nearer the hardness of a di unond than any other gla

< « ver. And the glass is in the very same quantity with tl

»sphorus, which produces it ounce for ounce.

Another odd circumstance relating to phosphorus, is, cut
s nail, or scrape it with a knife, and lay it on a glass dish i
moist air. In a week it dissolves into a liquid, near eighty timi
its or ginal weight. This liquid is the same in all respects, wit
that which comes from the sublimed flowers by deflagraliai
And tii is may be turned into the same glass with the origins
phosphorus.

_>ti'- "f the most singular kinds of lambent flames is that (Us
revered at certain times on sea-water. Where the ship go«
ft lv in the night, in many seas the whole breaking of thewate
viU Mppesr behind it, as if on fire, sparkling and shining all tb
y: )\ that it moves from the ship.

ft is in thispart'as bright and glittering as if the moon show
?i;->nn it, and chiefly wheu there is neither moon nor stars, no
i!i v light in the lanterns. But it is not always the same: some
'i nes it is scarce perceivable, sometimes very vivid and bright
Sometimes it is only just behind the ship, sometimes it spread
** ^reat way on each side. It commonly reaches thirty orfortj
t from the stern of the ship, but if. fainter as it is farther o&
the stern it is often so bright, that a person on deck tnay*^
, read by it. The luminous water that follows the ship \
\ times distinct from the rest of the surface. Sometimes i
«i so blended with the adiacent water, that the appearand
. confused. The luminous matter seems composed of siflf*
kles, which we sometimes in the figure of a star sometime"
. <ns globules, without any radiations from them. These ai^
■n or the size of a large pin's head ; some larger, even to
* diameter. Sometimes the luminous matter is in obI<»n*

■ » of three or four inches When the ship goes swiftljr
-■: hfnir^s all combine and form a sort of luminous whirlpool
'i-.,es a ship only, but whatever movts swift through the sea
r ^e the same appearance. Large fish when they swim neac
•<:e surface, leave a luminous road between them. So have 0
number of fish moving together. Aud sometimes the throwing:

Nature and Providenct. 163

* ■

trtfca rope, or any thing that breaks the surface of the water,
will render it luminous. If sea-water be taken up, and placed
in a vessel, as soon as it is stirred, it will sparkle {: and if a linen
rag be dipped in sea water, and hung up, when it is thorpughlv
dried. ii will appear luminous on being rubbed in the dark; anc
when half dry, it nerd only be shook, to sin w a great number of
sparkles. When these sparkles are once formed, and fall on any
fc-lid body they will last a considerable time. If they remain
oath? water, they will soon go out.
| The waves beating against the rocks or shore, yea, or against
OBe another, will occasion the same appearance, and often yield
* loop course of light the whole uight. In the Brasils the shorts
ofien seem all on fire, by the waves dashing against them. I
general, the thicker and fouler the seas are, the more of this lip' :
they afford. In many places the sea is covered with a yellow
Matter like sawdust, which seems to be the excrement of si»-
^••animal. The water where this is found, gives more 1;^ . .
**pon moving, than any other.

Some parts of the northern seas are covered with this, '
literal leagues together, and this is often luminous all over in
*hc night, thou&rh not stirred by any thing moving through it.

In the gulf of Venice the water is I urinous only from the bp
ginniug of summer till the end of harvest. This light is iiu.it
copious in places abounding with sea-grass, especially whm
•Hy thing moves the water. One filled a flask with this w ater,
hut it emitted no light till it was stirred in the dark. When
this was strained through a fine cloth, the cloth shone in the
d^rk, but not the w ater. This light consisted of innumerable
latcid particles. When some of this sea-grass was taken up,
there were above thirty of these particles on one leaf, one of
**Mch when it was shaken, fell off. It was as fine as an eye-
lash and about as long. Viewed with a microscope, it appear-
ed to be a worm or maggot, consisting of eleven rings, with as
*Uany mamilse on the sides instead of fi et. Their whole bodies
w*re lucid, though least so when at rest. In the spring they
cpt)fine themselves to the se.n-grass : but in summer they are
^■spersed all over the sea. and mostly on the surface. When
*his sea sparkles more than usual, it is a sure sign of a storm :
this proceeds from the greater agitations of the worms, al-
**ady sensible of the approaching change Hence it is clear,
Jhai the glittering of this son, in a ship's course, s occasioned
these worms : wh c\\ pre bahly is th« car-e in s« me othe r seas
*ho. And they an certainly the cause of the lipht in the pin-
^itiar na, a large muscle frequently caught by the Algenne

104 '111* Wonders

An Account of the Phenomena of Whirlwinds and Wa*» -r
Spouts at Sea.

[Meth. Mag.— Eng.]

A wind of a very peculiar kind, passed over the city of
Rome, on the night of the 1 1 tti of June, 1749. There first ap-
peared a very black, long and lofty cloud, w Inch emitted flamci
on all sides. It moved along with a surprising swiftness, with- J
in three or four feet of the ground. It first gathered in tbt ■
neighbouring sea, came from Osiia to Rome, entered the city be-
tween the gates orSt. Paul and St. S^bastion, and crossing i*1
a strait line, went out at the north angle of a large square, be-
tween the Porta Pia and that < f St. Lawrence. It stripped o£
the roofs of houses blew down the chimneys, broke doors im^
windows, forced lip the floors, and unpaved the rooms. It#toT^ j
up the vines, and overthrew the trees in its way, and where
action was most violent, the very rafters of the houses wer*
broke, yea, and hurled against houses at a considerable d&*~
tance. The loftiest buildings felt its fury the most : those CF*
one story were little damaged. It was traced to some distance
without the city, then it died away.

The motion of all these hunicanes is circular, and they car--'*
ry up into the air, tiles, stones, and whatever comes in thej^C
way, and throw them violently to a considerable distance. TC**
this may be owing some of those surprising showers which ar^^
recorded in history. A whirlwind, for instance, passes over^^
place where wool is sprend to dry. It takes it up, and scat-
ters it in small locks, at a considerable distance. Here is
appearance of a shower of moot. If it sweeps along a mil
rivulet, of which th^re are many among the mountains of Italy-**
it carries innumerable metallic particles away, and sprinkk^^
them on some distant town or fields. Here is what they call CZZZ
shower of iron.

Hurricanes are foreseen at the Antipcs by a calm, and thence-
shifting of breezes from all quarters ; the sun sets blood red
small clouds fly to and fro with treat rapidity. Sea-birds qui
the air and seek the shore. Soon after a north breeze springt^
up, which comes to the north-east. Afterwards it is south an^^
south-east, and the air is darkened by a black cloud.

In the last hurricane, the wind stood at north east, and ble
with such violence, that the largest trees were torn up by th
roots, their trunks broken to pieces, and not a leafleft on thos
other trees, which yielded to the fury of the wind* The lion*
were thrown down, and the tops of the sugar-mills, which coul

Nature and Provide net . itii,

not well be thrown down, were crushed in pieces. At the end
of a hurricane we see Helming, and hear the noise of thunder.
Then the wind softens gradually, till ail becomes quic t.

When there was a violent hurricane at Guadaluope, there ap-
peared on the island, a thick blai k cloud, winch steiued on fire,
and gravitating toward the earth ]t occupied a space of five
orsti leagues in front. Above it tin air was almost clear, there
appearing only a kind of mist. The whole force of a hurricane
it lodged in the very body of a cloud, containing wind, rain,
lightning and thunder : where the air is compressed, and roll-
ing, upon itself, causes the storms which nothing can resist. —
Nor does the hurricane end, till the cl< ud bursts, and the thun-
der and lightning come on.

One species of hurricane is that which is called a water-spout.
These are seen to descend from a cloud as a pillar, having two
notions, one round their own axis, the other progressive in a
straight direction. Such a spout is a gyration of clouds, by
contrary winds meeting in the centre, and there (where the con-
densation and gravitation are greatest; sinking down into a great
tube, like a screw. In its working and whirling, it sucks and
wises the water, in the same manner as the spiral screw does. —
One of those sometimes appears on the land. On June 21, some
Jtears since, the clouds near Hatfield, in Yorkshire, were ob-
served to be much agitated and driven together. They soon
kcame very black, and were hurried round : hence proceeded
* whirling noise like that of a mill. Soon after there issued a
k>ng tube from the centre of the congregated clouds, having a
screw-like motion, by which means the water wherever it came
*as raised up. In August follow ing, the wind blowing at the
time out of several quarters, created a great whirling
**Oong the clouds, the centre of w hich every now and then sunk
^Wn, like a long, black pipe, wherein was distinctly seen a
Motion like that of a screw, continually draw ing and sciewing
°P» as it were, whatever it touched, (troves and trees bent un-
J^r it circularly, like wands. Some of the branches it tore off.

is commonly supposed, that the water at sea rises in a column
before the tube touches it. But this is a mistake. The tube
°*t*n touches the surfncc of the sea, before the water rises at

But water-spouts happen several ways. Sometimes the wa-
is seen to boil, and raise itself f t a considerable space about
foot from the sea, before the tube touches it. Above this
***^re appears, as it were, a thick and black smoke, in the midst
which is a sort of pipe, resembling a tunnel, reaching up to
clouds. At other times these tunnels oome from the clouds,
'*nd suck np the water w ith great violence. Sometimes these

Tlx Winders of

discharge themselves into the sea, to the unavoidable desti
tion of such ships as are in their way : sometimes on the sh<
beating down all they meet with, and raising the saud
stones to a prodigious height.

A very distinct account of this kind was given some time ri
by an eje- witness.

" We were on the coast of Barbary, when three water-spc
came down : one of them bigger than three masts, the other i
scarce half as big : all of them were black, as the cloud ft
which they *eli ; all smooth, and smaller at the lower end
Sometimes one became smaller and then larger again : sol
times it disappeared, and quickly fell down again.

" There was always a great boiling and th ing up of the i
ter, like the appearance of a smoking chimney in a calm day
Sometimes it stooti as a pillar some yards above the sea, i
then spread itself and scattered like smoke. One spout ca
down to the very middle of the pillar, and joined with it.
terwards it pointed to the pillar at some distance, first in a j
peudicular, and then in au oblique line.

" It was hard to say, whether this spout fell first from
cloud, or the pillar rose first from the sea, both appearing
posite to each other, as in the twinkling of an rye But in
other place the water rose up to a great height, without J
spout pointing to it. Only here, the water did not rise Lik
pillar, but dew scatteringly, and advanced as a moving b
upon the surface of the sea. This proves that the rising of
water may begin, before the spout from tUfe cloud appears.

" All these spouts, but especially the great one toward
end, began to appear like a hollow canal, along the middle
which one might distinctly perceive the sea water fly up v
swiftly : soon after, the *potit broke in the middle, and dift
peared by little and little : the bailing. up, yea, the pillar of s
water continuing a considerable time after."
i

Account of Lobsters and sea and land Crabs, and of their woud
fid properties.

[By John Wesley, LL. D.]

It has long been supposed that A\ shells, as well as the a
mals in them, arose wholly from the egg. But it is now foil
by various experiments, that the shell of snails, and probably
all other animals, are formed of a matter which perspires fr<
their bodies, and then condenses round them.

JVkture mnd Providence.

167

It is certain allanimals perspire and are encompassed with an
atmosphere which exhales from them. Snails have nothing pe-
culiar in this respect, unless that their atmosphere condenses and
hardens about them, and forms a visible cover for the body,
while' that of other animals evaporates. This difference may
arise from the different substances perspired, that from snails
being viscous and stony. This is no supposition, but a mutter
of fart, proved by numerous experiments.

But the reproduction of the shells of some fish, yea, and of
the parts contained therein, is far more strange and unaccount-
able, than their first. production. This is particularly observed
in crabs and lobsters. Lobsters cast their shell yearly, some
time after midsummer. In the room of the old, a new thin shell
is immediately prepared by nature, which in less than eight
days, acquires almost the same degree of hardness as the other.

The legs of a lobster consist of five articulations. When any
of these legs break, which frequently happens, the fractuie is
always near the fourth joint and what they lose is precisely re-
produced in some time after : four joints shooting out, the first
^hereof has two claws, as before.

If a leg be broken off purposely at the fourth or fifth joint,
it is constantly reproduced : but very rarely, if at the first,
•econd, or third joint. What is still more surprising is, that
Upon visiting the lobster, which is maimed in these barren ar-
ticulations, at the end of two or three days, all the other joints
found broken off at the fourth, which he has undoubtedly
done himself.

The part reproduced is perfectly like that broke off, and in a
certain time grows equal to it. Hence it is that lobsters have
°fien their two bur leg? unequal. This she** s the smaller leg to
I* a new one. If a part thus reproduced is broken off, there i«
* second reproduction. The summer, which is the only time
*hf»n lobster* eat, is the most favourable time for this. It is then
Performed in four or five days ; otherwise it takes up eight or
n|ne months.

The common crab-fish has its abode in from twenty to forty
kthom water. They herd together in distinct tribes, and have
^'ir separate haunts for feeding and breeding, and will not
?s^nciate with their neierhbburs. This has been tried, by mark-
a crab, carrying it two or three miles and leaving it among
°th*»r crabs. This crab has afterward found its way home, aud
b«H*n caught in its old abode.

This creature too can break off its own limbs. If w hen it is
J*'d on its back, one of the outer joints of a small leg be bruised.

shews uneasiness by moving it about. Afterward he holds it
luite still, in a direct and natural position, without touching an>

The Wonders of

part of the body, or of the other legs with it. Then on a sudd
with a gentle crack, the wounded part of the leg drops off. ]
hole be pierced in the great It g, the effect will be the same ; a
the large limb is thrown off in the same' manner, only n
greater violence. A mucus then overspreads the wound, wV
presently stops bleeding ; and a small leg is by degrees prod*
which gradually attains the size of the former. Nature has gh
this singular power to these creatures, for the preservation
their lives in their frequent quarrels. In these, one crab li
hold of the claw of another, and crushes it in such a maon
that it would bleed to death, had it not the power of giving
the limb, and healing the wound.

However different in figure the lobster and the crab may sec
their manners are nearly the same. Though without any warn
in their bodies, or even red blood they are wonderfully voracio
Whatever they seize upon that has life is sure to perish, thow
never so well defended : they even devour each other ; and,
increase our surprise, they may in some measure, be said to
themselves, as they change their shell and their stomach ev«
year, and their old stomach is generally tiie first morsel t
serves to glut the new.

What this animal differs in from- all others, is that the spi
marrow is in the breast bone, h is furnisjied with two k
feelers or horns, that issue on each side of the head, to con
the dimness of its siirht and apprize the animal of its dangei
of its prey. The tail is the t>;rand instrument of motion; i
with this it can raise itself in the water.

When the\ouiu? lobsters leave the parent, they seek for reft
in the smallest clefts of rock-:, and in crevices at the bottom of
sea. There they grow larger n a few weeks, from the .ircidei
substances which the water washes to their retreats. By I
time also they acquire a hard (inn shell, which furnishes til
with both offensive and defensive armour. They then issue fir
their fortresses, and creep alon«r the bottom, in hopes of m<
inguith plunder. Thespawn of fish, the smaller animals of tl
own kind, b if chiefly the worms that keep at the bottom of
sea, supoh them with pi nty They keep in this manner cl
anions the rocks, busily employed in scratching up the sandw
their claus for worms or sur:»risintr such heedless animals
fall within their gra^p : thu< they have little to apprehend, <
cept fr» m each other, for in them, as among tishes. the large i
the most formidable of ill enemies to the small.

But the bodv of ihe lobster still continuing to increase,'
animal soon becomes too large forits habitation. In general,
animals change their sh- 11 once a year ; and this is a most paifl
operation. Their moulting season is generally about the bef

uiog of summer : at which time their food is in plenty, aud their
strength and vigour in the highest perfection. But soon all their
activity ceases : they seek some retired situation among the
locks, where they remain in safety from the attacks of their
various enemies. For some days before their change, the animal
discontinues its usual voraciousness ; it is no longer seen harrow-
ing np the sand at the bottom, or fighting with others of its kind,
or hunting its prey : it lies torpid and motionless. Just before

(casting its shell, it throws itself upon its back, strikes its claws
against each other, and every limb seems to tremble ; its feelers
are agitated, and the whole body is in violent motion. It then
wells itself in an unusual manner, and at last the shell begins to
} divide at its junctures ; particularly at the junctures of the belly,
I where like a pair of jumps, it was before but seemingly united,
i It also seems turned inside out ; and its stomach comes away
with its shell. After this it disengages itself of the claws, which
burst at the joints ; the animal, with a tremulous motion, casting
them off, as a man would kick off a boot that was too big for
him.

Thus this wonderful creature is at liberty ; but so weak that it
continues for several hours motionless. Indeed, so violent and
painful is the operation, that many of them die under it ; and
those which survive, for some time, neither take food, nor venture
from their retreats. Immediately after this change, they have
not only the softness, but the timidity of a worm* Every ani-
mal of the deep is then a powerful enemy, which they can nei-
ther escape, nor oppose : and this is the time when the dog-fish,
the cod, and the ray devour them by hundreds. But this state
continues for a very short time : in less than two days, the skin
that covered its body is grown almost as hard as before.

When the lobster is completely equipped in its new shell, it
appears how much it has grown in the space of a very few days.
The old shell being compared with those of the new, it is in-
creased above a third in its size ; and like a boy that has out-*
SFown his clothes, it seems wonderful how the deserted shell was
*hle to contain so great an animal as entirely fills up the new.

It may be worth observing, that lobsters use their tails as fins,
^'herewith they commonly swim backward, by jerks or springs,
Etching sometimes ten yards at a spring. For this purpose, as
*e gill-fins of other fishes, which are their oars, are a little con-
cave backward, these have the plates of their tails, when they
b*nd them down as they used to do, a little concave forward.

Different from all these are the land crabs of the Car\bbee
Inlands ; which live in a kind of orderly society, within their retreats
to the mountains ; and regularly once a year inarch down to the
*TtL rid* in a bodv of *'omr millions. Th^v choosfc the month?

MO

The U'qndtv of

of April and May to begin their expedition ; mid then sally o*
from the stumps of hollow trees, from the clefts of rocks, and fro>i
the holes which they dig for themselves under the surface of tt
earth. At that time the whole ground is covered with this ban
of adventurers. The sea is their place of destination, and to the
they direct their march. No geometrician could send them t
their destined station, by a shorter course. They never turn t
the right or left, whatever obstacles intervene. And even i
they meet with a house, they will attempt to scale the walls, t
keep the unbroken tenor of their way. But upon some occasion
they are compelled to conform to the face of the country; and i
it be intersected by rivers, they wind along the course of the stream
They are commonly divided into three battalions ; of which th
first consists of the strongest and boldest males, that like pic
neers, march forward to clear the route, and face the greater
dangers. These are often obliged to halt for want of rain, an
wait till the weather changes. The main body of the array i
composed of females, which never leave the mountains till ih
rain is set in, and then descend in regular battalia, in column
of fifty paces broad, and three miles deep, and so close," the
they almost cover the ground. Three or four days after this, tb
{ear guard follows ; a straggling undisciplined tribe, consisting
of males and females, but neither so robust nor so numerous a
the former. The night is their chief time of proceeding; bu
ff it rains by day, they do not fail to profit by the occasion ; an
they continue to move forward in their slow, uniform mannei
When the sun shines hot, they make an universal halt, and wa
till the cool of die evening. When iliey are terrified they marc-
hack in a disorderly manner, holding up their nippers wil
which they sometimes tear off a piece of the flesh of an assailac
and leave the weapon where they ipflict the wound. JThe
often clatter their nippers together, as if it were to threaten thos
that come to disturb them. But though they thus strive to b
formidable to man, they are much more so to each other; (■
iT any of them by accident is maimed in sucli a manner as to ■
Incapable of proceeding, the rest fall upon and devour it on tM
spot, and then pursue their journey.

When after a fatiguing march, perhaps of three months, th—
arrive at their destined port, they prepare to cast their spavw
The peas are as yet within their bodies, and not as is usual
animals of this kind, under the tail/ And the creature waits ^
the benefit of the sea water, to help the delivery. For this p**
pose the crab has no sooner reached the shore, than it eages

goes to the edge of the water, and lets the waves wash over
ady two or three times. Then they withdraw to seek a lodgi 1
iijuin kind • in tire nleaji time t\\c awn grows larger, r? e**

3\Caturc and Prov'u&nw,

J out of the body, and sticks to the barbs under the tall. —
this state of pregnancy they once more seek the shore, and
iking oil' their spawn into the water, leave it there. At this
ne whole shoals of hungry fish are in expectation of this an-
tal supply. The sea, to a great distance, is black with them ;
d about two thirds of the crab's eggs are immediately de-
ured. The eggs that escape are hatched under the sand ; and
on after, millions at a time of these little crabs are seen quit-
ig the shore, and slowly travelling up to the mountains*.
The old ones, however, are not so active to return ; they are
come so feeble, that they can hardly creep along. Most of
em, therefore, are obliged to continue in the flat parts of the.
tuitry till they recover, making holes in the earth, which they
ver at the mouth with leaves and dirt. There they throw off
eir old shells. At that time they are quite naked, and almost
thout motion for six days. They have then under their sto-
ichs four large white stones, which gradually decrease in pro*,
rtion as the shell hardens, and when they come to perfection,
J not to be found. It is at that time the animal is seen slowly
u\ing its way back, and all this is commonly performed in
: weeks.

< In account of (he minimal Flower in Barbadoesk

[Meth. Mag.— Eng.]

a* the parish of St. Lucy, on the north side of the island, there
i high rocky cliff fronting the sea, near the bottom of which
i lyge cave. This opens into another cave, the bottooH of
ich is a basin of water. In the midst of this basin is a rock,
ays covered with water : on the sides of which, a few inches
ow the water, are seen, at all times of the year, issuing out of
le holes, what have the appearance of finely radiated flowers ;
»ize, colour and shape greatly resembling a common mary-
Id.

If you attempt to pluck one of these, as soon as your fingers
ne within two or three inches of it, it contracts, closes up its
■der and shrinks back into the hole of the rock. But if left
disturbed for a few minutes, it issues again, and soon appears
ull bloom. This might induce one to believe, that it was no
ler than an aquatic sensitive plant.

But on a nearer inspection we may discern four dark colored
iraents, rising from the centre, moving with a quick and spofc*
lews motion, anfld frequently closings to sjfhe its pfrey, much

TJit Hnttiltrs nj

like the claws of a lobster. So that the scorning' dower is realty
an animal ; and its body, which appeared to be the stalk of the
flower, is black, about as big as a lavcn's bill.

It seems the vivid yellow colour of its feelers, is absolutely
necessary to procure its food. The water in the cave, having
no motion, cannot bring any food to them. Therefore the Cre-
ator has endued this creature with a quality which may allure
Its prey. For bright colours invite many aquatic animals, as
the flame of a caudle does flies.

A remarkable Echo.
[Eng. Mag.]

Tiiuke is an echo on the bank of the river Nassa, betweeu
Bingen and Collentz, in Germany, which repeats what is said
seventeen times. And what is still more peculiar, the persou
who speaks is scarce heard at all, but the repetition, clearly
and with surprising variety : the echo seeming sometimes to
approach nearer, and sometimes to bo farther oil". One per-
son hears only one voice, another several : one hears it on the
right, another on the left.

Two miles from Milan there is a still more surprising echo.
It returns the sound of a pistol fifty-six limes. The first repeti-
tions follow one another very quick ; but they are more distinct
in proportion as they decay. There are two parallel wall>>
which beat the sound back upon each other.

Hcuutrhablc Account.
[Eng. Mag.]

A nobleman, in Germany, was condemned to tilt:, am] order-
ed for execution in the morning. During the night, in ten or
twelve hours time, all his hair turned while as flax. The em-
peror being informed of this, said; il he has sutTcrcd enough ;??
and pardoned him.

Since that time, there has been an instance of one of our own
countrymen, who being ship-wrecked, saved himself on a Mnall
rock, surrounded by the sea. A boat took him oil" after he had
Stayed there four hours. But in that space his hair was turned
ggite wbitys

+Yatttrt and FravuUiu^

Perhaps a still stranger instance of this kind is related in the
-duke of Sully's memoirs. " Henry IV. told the marquis De la
Force, that the moment he was informed Henry the IFI. had
published an edict (in July, 1 535,) ordering all the Hugouots
either to go to mass, or to abandon the kingdom in six months,
bis mustaches turned suddenly white on that side of his face
which he supported with his hand.

Its life is a peculiar kind, and approaches to the nature of
vegetation. Hairs grow much as plants grow out of the earth,
or as some plants grow upon others : from which they draw their
nourishment, and yet each has its life distinct from the other.
So hair derives its food from some juices in the body ; but not
from the nutricious juices. Accordingly the hair may live and
grow, while the body is starved to death.

That hair may grow, merely as an excrescence of the vegeta-
ble kind, appears from that memorable case recited by Mr.
Hook, of a body which, having been buried forty-three years, was
found in a manner wholly converted into hair. The woman was
buried in a coffin of wood, and lay the lowest of three in the same
grave. The others being removed, and this coffin appearing, it
was observed that much hair came through the clefts of it ; on
removing the lid, the whole appeared a very surprising sight.
There was the whole figure of the corpse, exhibiting the eyes,
mouth, ears, and every part. But from the crown of the head,
even to the sole of the foot, it was covered over with a very
thick set hair ; long, and much curled. The people, amazed at
this appearance, went to touch the corpse ; but the shape fell
away, as it was handled, leaving only a quantity of shapeless hair;
but neither flesh nor bones, only a small part of the great tor
of the right foot.

account of fstiuah in honour of Idols among the ancicnr
Mexicans.

There was no month in which the Mexicans did not celebrate
some festival or other, which was either fixed and established
to be held on a certain day of the month, or moveable, from
being annexed to some signs which did not correspond with the
same days in every year. The principal moveable festivals, ac-
cording to Boturni, were sixteen in number, among which the
fourth was that of the god of wine, and the thirteenth, that of
the god of fire.

With respect to those festivals which were fixed, we shall
inention as concisely \is possible, as much as we judge will he

sufficient to convey a competent idea of the religion and tl
superstitious disposition of the Mexicans.

On the second day of the first month, they made a great fa
tival to Tlaloc, accompanied with sacrifices of children, wliic
were purchased for that purpose, and a gladiatorian sacrifice
these children, which were purchased, were not sacrificed I
at once, but successively so, in the course of three month
which corresponded to those of March and April, to obtai
from this god the rains which were necessary for their maiie.

On the first day of the second month, which, in the first yti
of their century, corresponded to the 18th of March, they mat
a most solemn festival to the god Xipe, the sacrifices offered 1
which were extremely cruel. They dragged the victims h
their hair to the upper area of the temple, where, after tbf
were sacrificed in the usual manner, they skinned thetn, andtl
priests clothed themselves iu their skins, and appeared for son
days in these bloody coverings. The owners and prisoners th
were sacrificed were bound to fast for twenty days, after whk
they made great banquets, at which they dress the flesh of d
victims. The stealers of gold or silver were sacrificed aloe
with prisoners, the law of the kingdom having ordained that pa
ishment for them. The circumstance of skinning the victim
obtained to this month the name of Tlacaxipehualiztli, or d
skinning of men. At this festival, the military went through sr
oral exercises of arms and practises of war, and the nobles eel
brated with songs, the glorious actions of their ancestors. 1
Tlascala, the nobles, as well as the plebeians had dances, 3
which they were all dressed in skins of animals, and embroidei
of gold and silver. On account of these dances, which wei
common to all ranks of people, they gave the festival as well 1
the month the name of Coalhuitl, or the general festival.

In the third month, which began on the 7th of April, the &
cond festival of Tlaloc was celebrated with the sacrifice of son
children. The skins of the victims which were sacrificed to tl
god Xipe, in the preceding month, were carried in procession 1
a temple called Jopico, which was within the enclosure of tl
greater temple, and there deposited in a cave. In this sao
month the Xochimanqui, or those who traded in flowers, eel
brated the festival of their goddess Coatlicue, and presented h<
garlands of flowers curiously woven. But before this offerii
was made, no person was allowed to smell these flowers. Tl
ministers of the temples watched every night of this month, an
on that account made great fire ; hence the month took the nan
of Tozoztonli, or little watch.

The fourth month was called Hueitctli, or great wmtcb
J5$cairse, during this month, not only the priests* but also the m

tility, and populace kept watch. They drew blood from their
ears, eye-brows, nose, tongue, arms, and thighs, to expiate the
tails committed by their senses, and exposed at their doors
* haves of the sword-grass, coloured with blood, but with no other
intention, probfebly, than to make ostentation of their penance.
h this manner they prepared themselves for the festival of the
goddess Centeotl, which was celebrated with sacrifices of human
victims and animals, particularly of quails, and with many war-
like exercises, which they performed before the temple of tin*
goddess. Little girls carried ears of maize to the temple, and
tfter offering them to that false divinity, carried them to grana-
ries, in order that these ears, thus hallowed, might preserve all
the rest of the grain from any destructive insect. This mouth
commenced on the 27th of April.

The fifth month, which began upon the 17th of May, was al-
ttost wholly festival. The first, which was one of the four
principal festivals of the Mexicans, was that which they made
m honour of their great god Tezcatlipoca. Ten days before it
• priest dressed himself in the same habit and badges which dis-
tinguished that god, and went out of the temple with a bunch of
Hovers in his hands, and a little flute of clay which made a
very shrill sound. Turning his face first towards the cast, and
afterwards to the other three principal winds, be sounded the
flute loudly, and then takiug up a little dust from the earth with
hi finger, he put it to his mouth and swallowed it. Upon hear-
ing the sound of the flute all kneeled down ; criminals were
thrown into the utmost terror and consternntiou, and with tears
Hnplored that god to grant a pardon to their transgressions, and
hinder them from being discovered and detected ; warriors pray-
ed to him for courage and strength against the enemies of the
nation, successful victories, and a multitude of prisoners for sa-
crifices, and all the rest of the people, using the same ceremony
°f taking up and eating the dust, supplicated with fervour the
c'emency of the gods. The sound of the little flute was repeated
e*ery day until the festival. One day before it, the lords carri-
^ a new habit to the idol, which the priests immediately put
upon it, and kept the old one as a relique in some repository of
l"e temple ; they adorned the idol with particular ensigus of
Sold and beautiful feathers, and raised up the tapestry, which
always covered the entrance of the sanctuary, that the image op
their god might be seen and adored by the multitude.

When the day of the festival arrived, the people flocked to
lower area of the temple. Some priests painted black, and
Messed in a similar habit with the idols, carried it aloft upon a lit—
which the youths and virgins of the temple, bound with
**fick cprds of wreaths of crisp maize, and put nnc nf thrs?*

1*6

Tfit tyouderj qf

wreaths round the neck, and a garland on the head of the idc
This cord, the emblem of drought, which they desired to pi
vent, was called Toxcatl, which name was likewise given to t
month on account of this ceremony. All the youths and vi
gins of the temple, as well as the nobles of the court, cam
similar wreaths about their necks and in their hands. Then fi
lowed a procession through the lower area of the temple, whe
flowers and odoriferous herbs were scattered : two priests offi
ed incense to the idol, which two* others carried upon their shot
ders. In the mean while the people kept kneeling, striking tlx
backs with thick knotted cords. When the procession finishe
and also their discipline, they carried back the idol to the alta
and made abundant offerings to it of gold, gems, flowers, fe
thers, animals, and provision which were prepared by the vi
gins and other women, who on account of some particular vw
assisted for that day in the service of the temple. These pro?
sions were carried in procession by the same virgins, who wa
led by a respectable priest, dressed in a strange fantastical hi
bit, and lastly the youths carried them to the habitations of tfc
priests for whom they bad been prepared.

Afterwards they made the sacrifice of the victim represents
the god Tezcatlipoca. This victim was the handsomest an
best shaped youth of all the prisoners. They selected hhn
year before the festival, and during that whole time he wast!
ways dressed in a similar habit with the idol ; he was permitts
to go round the city, but always accompanied by a strong guard
and was adored every where, as the living image of that supreo
divinity. Twenty days before the festival, this youth marrta
four beautiful girls, and on the five days preceding the festival
they gave him sumptuous entertainments, and allowed him a
tht pleasures of Kfe. On the day of the festival, they led hii
with a numerous attendance to the temple of Tezcatlipoca, bi
before they came there they dismissed his wives. He accofl
panied the idol in the procession, and when the hour of sacrifi*
was come, they stretched him upon the altar, and the higl
priest with great reverence opened his breast and pulled out t
heart. His body was not, like the bodies of other victims, thro*
down the stairs, but carried in the arms of the priests and b
beaded at the bottom of the temple. His head was strung *
in the Tzompantli, among the rest of the skulls of the victi*
which were sacrificed to Tezcatlipoca, and his legs and artf
were dressed and prepared for the tables of the lords. Aft
the sacrifice, a grand dance took place of the collegjate youti
and nobles who were present at the festival. At sun-set, the vi
gins of the temple made a new offering of bread baked with In
Uf»y. Tbw bread, with some other things unknowu to it». w

\ature and Providence.,

• pot before the altar of Teicatlipoca, and was deftincd to be the
reward of the youths who should be the victors in the race
which they made down the stairs of the temple ; they were also
rewarded with a garment, and received the praise and applause

i of the priests as well as the people who were spectators. The
festival was concluded by dismissing from the seminaries all the
youths and virgins who were arrived at an age fit for marriage.

■ The youths who remained, mocked the others with satirical and
humorous raillery, and threw at them handfu Is of. rushes and
other things, upbraiding them with leaving the service of god
for the pleasures of matrimony ; the priests always granting
them indulgence in this emanation of youthful vivacity,
in the same fifth mouth, the first festival of Huitzilopochtli

, wu celebrated. 1*he priests made a statue of this god, of the
regular stature of a man ; they made the flesh of a heap of
< Aohualli, which is a certain eatable plant, and the bones of the
wood Mizquitl. They dressed it in cotton with a mantle of
fathers ; put on its head a small parasol of paper, adorned
with beautiful feathers, and above that a bloody little knife of
flint-stone, upon its breast a plate of gold, and on its garment
were several figures representing bones of the dead, and the im-
ige of a man torn in pieces ; by which they intended to signify
either the power of this god in battle, or the terrible revenge,
which, according to their mythology, he took against those who
conspired against the honour and life of his mother. — They put
this statue in a litter made on four wooden serpents, which four
principal officers of the Mexican army bore from the place
where the statue was formed, into the altar where it was placed.
Several youths forming a circle, and joining themselves togeth-
er by means of arrows, which they laid hold of with their hands,
the one by the head, the other by the point, carried before the
filter a piece of paper more than fifteen perches long, on which,
probably, the glorious actions of that false divinity were rep-
resented, and which they sung to the sound of musical instru-
cts.

When the day of the festival was arrived, in the morning
,ney made a great sacrifice of quails, which, after their heads
*ere twisted off, they threw at the foot of the altar. The first
^ho made this sacrifice was the king, after him the priests, and
'**tly, the people. Of this great profusion of quails, one part
^s dressed for the king's table, and those of the priests, and
remainder was reserved for another occasion. Every per-
s°n who was present at the festival, carried a clay censer, and

* quantity of bitumen of Judea, to burn in offering to tbeir god,
***dall the coal which was made use of was afterwards collected
lr* a larce fctove called Tlexictli. On account of this ceremony

23

178 The Wonders of

they called the festival the incensing of Hnitzilopochtli. imax
diately after followed the dance of the virgins and priests. Tfc
virgins dyed their faces, their arms were adorned with red fes
thers, on their heads they wore garlands of crisp leaves of maib
and in their hands they bore canes which were cleft, with lilt
flags of cotton or paper in them. The faces of the priests wei
dyed black, their foreheads bound with little shields of papc
and their lips daubed with honey, they covered their nation
parts with paper, and each held a sceptre, at the extremity <
which was a flower made of feathers, and above that another to
of feathers. Upon the edge of the stove two men danced, be*
ing on their backs certain cages of pine. The priests in d
course of their dancing, from time to time, touched the eart
with the extremity of their sceptres, as if they rested therasefo
upon them. All these ceremonies had their particular sigoifi
cation, and the dance on occount of the festival at which it tool
place was called Toxcachocbolla. In another separate place
the court and military people danced. The musical instrument
which in some dances were placed in the centre, on this occt
sion were kept without and hid, so that the sound of them ws
heard but the musicians were unseen.

One year before this festival, the prisoner who was to be is
crificed to Huitzilopochtli. to which prisoner they gave the nam
of Ixteocale, which signifies, wise lord of heaven, was select*
along with the victim for Tezcatlipoca. Both of them ramble
about the whole year ; with this difference, however, thattl
victim of Tezcatlipocu was adored, but not that of Huilsik
pochtl. When the dny of the festival was arrived, they dressc
the prisoner in a curious habit of painted paper, and put on fa
head a mitre made of the feathers of an eagle, with a plume up<
the top of it. He carried upon his back a small net. and ov
it a little bag, and in this dress he mingled himself in thedaD
of the courtiers. The most singular thing respecting this p
soner was, that although he was doomed to die on that day, J
he had the liberty of fixing the hour of sacrifice himself. Wh<
ever he chose he presented himself to tie priests, in whose art
and not upon the altar, the sacrifice!- broke his breast, and pu
ed out his heart. When the sacrifice was ended, the priests 1
gan a great dance, which continued all the remainder of C
day, excepting some intervals, which they employed to rep*
the incense offerings. At this same festival, the priests mad*
slight cut on the breast and on the belly of all the children
both sexes which were born within one preceding year. Tl
was the sign or character, by which the Mexican nation speci
ly acknowledged itself consecrated to the worship of its pi
tectinir, pod : and this is nUo the reason why several authi

Nature and Providence. 179

have^elieved, that the rite of circnmcisiqp was established
among the Mexicans. But if possible the people of Yucatan
tod the Totonacas used this rite, it was never practised by the
Mexican, or any other nation of the empire.

In the sixth month, which began about the sixth of June, tlie
third festival of the god Tlaloc was celebrated. They strewed ,
the temple in a curious manner, with rushes from the lake of
Chlaltepec. The priests who went to fetch them, committed
1 various hostilities upon all passengers whom they met in their
way, plundering them of every thing they had about them, and
•onetimes even stripping them quite naked, and beating them
if tbey made any resistance. With such impunity were these
priests, turned assassins, favoured, that they not only robbed
tbe common people, but even carried off the royal tribute from
the collectors of them, if they chanced t<* meet with them, no
private persons being allowed lo make complaint against them
nor the king to punish them for such enormities. On the day
«f the festival, they all eat a certain kind of gruel which they
called Etzalli, from which the month took the name of Etzal-
qaatitzli. They carried to the temple a vast quantity of paint-
ed paper and elastic gum, with which they besmeared the pa-
per and the cheeks of the idol.

After this ridiculous ceremony, they sacrificed several prison-
ers who were clothed in habits the same with that of the god
Tlaloc, and his companions, and in order to complete the scene
tf their cruelty, the priests, atti'iifled by a gr -at croud of people,
Went in vessels to a certain place of the lake, where in former
times there was a whirlpool, and there sacrificed two children
of both sexes, by drowning them, along with the hearts of the
prisoners who had been sacrificed at this festival, in order to
obtain from their gods the necessary rains for their fields. Upon
Ais occasion, those ministers of the temple, who, in the course
°f that year, had neither been negligent in office, or convicted of
•Otne high misdemeanor which was not, hmvever, deserving of
capital punishment, were stripped of their priesthood, and re-
vived a chastisement similar to the tri<*k which is practised on
**amen the fir*t time they pass the line, but more severe, as by
b^ing repeatedly ducked in the water they were at least so ex-
hausted, it became necessary to carry them home to their hous-
to be recovered.

In the seventh month, which began upon the 26th of June, the
festival of lluixtocihuatbl, the goddess of salt, was celebrated. —
^ day before the festival there was a great dance of women,
^lio danced in a circle, joined to each other by strings or cords
different flowers, and wearing garlands of wormwood ow their
**^ads. A female prisoner, clothed in the habit of the idol of

J

180

The Wonders of

that goddess, was placed in the cenire of the circle. The da
cing was accompanied with singing, in both of which two oldi
spectable priests took the lead. This dance continued the wh(
night, and in the morning after, the dance of the priests begi
and lasted the whole day, without any other interruption tb
the sacrifice of prisoners. The priests wore decent garmen
and held in'their hands those beautiful yellow flowers which 1
Mexicans called Cempoalxochit), and many European Indi
Carnations ; at sun set they made the sacrifice of the fern;
prisoner, and concluded the festival with sumptuous banquet;

During the whole of this month the Mexicans made great:
joicings. They wore their best dresses ; dances and amuseme
in their gardens were frequent ; the poems which they fa
were all on love, or some other equally pleasing subject. T
populace went a hunting in the mountains, and tlte nobles U!
warlike exercises in the field, and sometimes in vessels up
the lake. These rejoicings of the nobility procured to tl
month the name of Tccutlhuitl, the festival of the lords, or
Tecuilhuitoiitli, the small festival of the lords, as it was truly
in comparison of the festival of the following month.

In the eighth month, which began upon the 16th day of Ju
they made a solemn festival to the goddess Centeotl, under 1
name of Xilonen ; for as we have already mentioned they cbi
ged the name according tOjthe state of the maize. On thiftl
tival they called her Xilonen ; because the ear of the raai
while the grain was still tender, was called Xilotl. The festi
continued eight days, during which there was constant danci
in the temple of that goddess. Or* such days, the king and
nobles gave away meat and drink to the populace, both of wb
were placed in rows in the under area of the temple and th
the Chiampiuolli, which was one of their most common drill
was given, and also the Tamalli, which was paste of maize, mi
into small rolls, and also other provisions. Presents w
made to the priests, and the nobles invited each other recip
cally to entertainments, and presented each other with gc
silver, beautiful feathers, and curious animals. They sung
glorious actions of their ancestors, and boasted of the noblen
and antiquity of their families. At sun-set, when the feast
of the populace was ended, the priests had their dance wh
continued four hours, and on that account there was a splem
illumination in the temple. The last day was celebrated w
the dance of the nobility and the military, among whom dam
also a female prisoner, who represented that goddess, and n
sacrificed after the dance along with the other prisoners. Tl
the festival, as well as the mouth, had the name of Hueiteci
Jjuitl, that is, the great festival of the lords.

JSature and Providence. 18J

la the ninth month, which began on the oth of August, the
second festival of Huitzilopochtli was kept ; on which, besides
the usual ceremonies, they adorned all the idols with flowers ;
not only those which were worshipped in the temples, but like-
vise those which they had for private devotion in their houses;
from whence the momh was called Tlaxochimaco. The night
preceding the festival was employed in preparing the meats
which they eat* next day with the greatest jubilee. The nobles
of both sexes danced together, the arms of the one resting jou
the shoulders of the other. This dance which lasted until the
evening, finished with the sacrifice of some prisoners. In this
month also the festival of Jacateuctli, the god of commerce was
held, accompanied with sacrifices.

In the tenth month, the beginning of which was on the 25th
of August, they kept the festival of Xiuhteuctli, god of fire. In
the preceding months, the priests brought out of the woods a
large tree, which they fixed in the under area of«the temple. —
The day before the festival they stripped off its branches and
bark, and adorned it with painted paper, and from that time it
was reverenced as the image of Xiuhteuctli. The owners of
the prisoners which were to be sacrificed on this occasion, dyed
their bodies with red ochre, to resemble in some measure the
colour of fire, and were dressed in their best garments. They
went to the temple, accompanied by their prisoners, and passed
the whole night in singing and dancing with them. The day of
the festival being arrived, and also the hour of the sacrifice, they
tied the hands and feet of the victims, and sprinkled the powder
of Jauhtli in their fores, in order to deaden their senses, that
their torments might be less painful. They then began the
dance, each with his victim upon his hack, and one after the
other threw them into a large fire kindled in the area, from
which they soon after drew them with hooks of wood, to com-
plete the sacrifice upon the altar in the ordinary way. The
Mexicans gave to this month the name of Xocohuelzi, which sig-
nifies the maturity of the fruits. The Tlascalans called the
ninth month Miccailhuitl, or the festival of the dead; because
'n it they made oblations for the souls of the deceased ; and the
tenth month Hueimiccailhuitl, or the grand festival of the dead ;
^■aiise in that they wore mourning, and made lamentation for
the death of their ancestors.

Five davs before the commencement of the eleventh month,
^hich began on the 14th of September, all festivals ceased. Du-
tl^fX the first eight days of the month, was a dance, but without
mUsic or singing ; every one directing his movements according
to his own pleasure. After this period Was elapsed, they clothed
a female prisoner in the habit of Teteoinan, or the mother of the

182

The Wonders of

gods, whose festival was celebrating; the prisoner was attended
by many women, and particularly by the mid wives, who for
four whole days employed themselves to amuse and comfort
her. When the priucipal day of the festival was arrived, they
led this woman to the upper area of the temple of that goddess,
where they sacrificed her; but this was not performed in the
usual mode, nor upon the common altar where other victims
were sacrificed, for they beheaded her upon the shoulders of.
another woman, and stripped her skin off, which a youth, witha
numerous attendance, carried to present to the Idol of Huk-
cilopochtli, in memory of the inhuman sacrifice which their an-
cestors had made of the princess of Colhuacan; but before it
was presented, they sacrificed in the usual mode, four prisoners,
in memory, as i.« probable, of the four Xochimilcan prisoners
which they had sacrificed during their captivity in Colhuacan.
In this month they made a review of their troops, and enlisted
those youths who were destined for the profession of arms, aid !
who, in future were to serve in w ar when there should be oc-
casion. All the nobles and populace swept the temples, on
which account this month took the name of Ochpaniztli, which
signifies, a sweeping. They cleaned and mended the streets,
and repaired the aqueducts and their houses, all which labours
were attended with many superstitious rites.

In the twelfth month, which began upon the 4th of October,
they celebrated the ft stival of the arrival of the gods, which ibey
expressed by the word Teotleco, which name they also gav*
to both the month and the festival. On the 16th day of this
month they covered all the temples, and the comer stones of lb*
streets of the city w ith green branches. On the lhth, the gods,
according to their account, began to arrive, the first of whom
was the great god Tezcatlipoca. They spread before the door
of the sanctuary of ihis god a mat made of the palm-tree, and
sprinkled upon it some pow der of maize. TJie high-priest stood
in watch all the preceding night, and went frequently to lo**k
at the mat, and as soon as he discovered any footsteps upon th*
powder, which had been trod upon, no doubt, by some oih*r
deceitful priest, he began to cry out, "Our great god has no1*
arrived." All the other priests, with a great croud of people
repaired tl'fre to adore him, and celebrate his arrival will1
I ^ vj.s- Atio nances, which were repeated all the rest of the nigls*"
On the two days following, other gods successively arrived*
and on the twentieth ami last day, when they believed that al'
the gods were come, u number of youths dressed in the form 9^
various monsters, danced around a large fire, into which, from*
time to time they threw prisoners, who were there consumer*
as burnt sacrifices. At sunset they made great entertainments-*

Nature and Providence.

hey drank more tlian usual, imagining, that the wine
i they filled their bellies, would serve to wash the feet
)ds. To such excesses did the barbarous superstition
eople lead ! Nor was the ceremony which they prac-
irder to preserve their children from the evil which
ded from one of th^ir gods, less extravagant: this
istom of sticking a number of feathers on their shoul-
• arms, and legs, by means of terpentine,
hirteenth month, which began on the 24 ih of October
il of the gods of water and the mountains was cele-
riic n ime Tepcilhuill, which was given to this month,
inly the festival of the mountains. They made little
i of paper, on which they placed some little serpents
ood? or of roots of trees, and certain small idols called
mtin, covered with a particular paste. They put both
altars and worshipped them as the images of the gods
untains, sung hymns to them, and presented copal aud
hem. The prisoners who were sacrificed at this fes-
? five in number, one man and four women; to each
a particular name was given, alluding, probably, to
tery of which we are ignorant. They clothed them

I paper, which was besmeared with elastic gum, and
lem in procession in litters, after which they sacrificed
he usual manner.

fourteenth month, which commenced on the 13thpf No-
ads the festival of Mixcoatl, goddess of the cjiace. It
?ded by four days of ri^id and general fasting accom-
ith tie effusion of blood, during which time they made
id darts for the supply of their arsenals, and also cer-

II arrows which they placed together with pieces of
some meats, upon the tombs of their relations, and af-

ay burned them. When the fast was over, the inhabi-
Mexico and Tlatelolco went out to a general chase in
ibnuring mountains, and all the animals which were
with £feat rejoicings to Mexico, where they were sacri-
dixeoatl; the Wnvj; himself was present not only at the
but likewise at the chase. They gave to this month
e of Quecholli, because at this season the beautiful
went among them by that name, and by many called
o, made its appearance on the banks of the Mexican

fifteenth mont'.i, the beginning of which was on the 3rd
)eccmbiT, thr 'bird and principal festival of Huitzilo-
uul his brother was celebrated. On the first day of
th. toe priests formed two statues of i!io.n? two gods.
?nt s-r;|s pa-?, d toLM'ther. with ihe blood of children

i

4

184

The Wonders *f

that had been sacrifice], in which in the place of bones the
substituted pieces of the wood of acacia. They placed thes
statues upon the principal altar of the temple, and during tV
whole of that night the priests keep watch. The day follow
ing, they gave their benediction to the statues, and also to
small quautity of water which was preserved in the temple ft
the purpose of being sprinkled on the face of any new king <
Mexico, and of the general of their armies after their election
but the general, besides being besprinkled, was required t<
drink it. As soon as the statues were consecrated by this be&
ediction, the dance of botli sexes began, and continued all th
month for'threc or four hour? every day. During the whole ni
the month a great deal of blood was shed ; and four hours be-
fore the festival, the masters of the prisoners which were to be
sacrificed, and which were selected A>r the occasion, observed a
fast, and had their bodies painted of various colours. In the
morning of the twentieth day, on which the festival was held,
a grand and solemn procession was made. A priest bearing a
serpent of wood, which he raised high up in his hands, called
Ezpamitl,and which was the badge of the gods of war went first,
with another priest bearing a standard, such as they used in
their armies. After them came a third priest, who carried the
statue of the god Painaltou, the vicar of J luitzilopochtli. Then
- came the victims after the other priests, and lastly, the people.
The procession set out from the greater temple, towards the dis-
trict of Teotlacheo, wheie it stopped, while two prisoners of war
and some purchased slaves were sacrificed ; they proceeded next
to Tlatelolco, Pwpotla, and Chapoltepcc, from whence they re-
turned to the city, and after having passed through other dis-
tricts, re-entered the temple.

This circuit of nine or ten miles, which they performed, consum-
ed the greatest part of the day, and at all the places where thev
stopped, they sacrificed quails, and, probably, some prisoners
also. When the\ arrived at the temple, they placed the statu*
of Painalton. and the standard, upon the altar of Huitzilopochtli !
the king offered incense to the two statues of seeds, and th*1
ordered another proces? ton to be made round the temple, at tb*
conclusion of which they sacrificed the rest of the prisoners n»'
slaves. These sacrifices were made at the close of the day-"
That night the priests kept watch, and the next morning tl'e
carried the statue in paste of Iluit/jlopochtli to a great
which was within the precincts of tin? temple, and there in
presence only of the king, four principal priests, and four sup'
riors of the seminaries, the priest Quetzalcoatl, who was tl
chief of the Tlamacazqui, or penance-doers, threw a dart at *\
statue, which pierced it through and through. They then s&

Nature and £rovylence.

186

that their god was dead. One of the principal priests cat out
the heart of the statue, and gave it to the king to eat. The body
was divided into two parts; one of which was given to the peo-
ple of Tlatelolco, and the other to the Mexicans. The share
was again divided into four parts, for the four quarters of the
city, and each of these four parts into as many minute particles
u there were men in each quarter. This ceremony they ex-
pressed by the word Teocualo, which signifies the god to be
eaten. The women never tasted this sacred paste, probably,
because they had no concern with the profession of arms. We
to ignorant, whether or not they made the same use of the
statue of Tlacahuepan. The Mexicans gave to this month the
lane of Panquetzaliztli, which signifies, the raising of the stand-
ard, alluding to the one which they carried in the above pro-
ccuion. In this month they employed themselves in renewing
the boundaries, and repairing the enclosures of their fields.

In the sixteenth month, which began upon the 23d of Decem-
ber, the fifth and last festival of the gods of water, and the
•ountains, took place. They prepared for it with the usual
aoiterities, by making oblations of copal and other aromatic
gams. They formed little figures of the mountains, which they
consecrated to those gods, and certain little idols made of the
piste of various eatable seeds, of which when they had worship*
ped them, they opened the breasts, and cut out the hearts, with
a weaver's shuttle, and afterwards cut off their heads, in imita-
tion of the rites of the sacrifices. The body was divided by
the heads of families among their domestics, in ordwV that by
eating them they might be preserved from certain distempers,
to which those persons who were negligent of worship to those
deities conceived themselves to be subject. They burned the
habits in which they had dressed the small idols, and preserved
the ashes with the utmost care in their oratories, and also the
vessels in which the images had been formed. Besides these
Aes, which were usually observed in private houses, thty made
some sacrifices of human victims in the temple. For four days
preceding the festival, a strict fast was observed, accompanied
with the effusion of blood. This month was called Atemoztli,
which signifies the descent of the water, for a reason which we
will immediately mention.

In the seventeenth month, which begaft upon the 12th of
January, they celebrated the festival of the goddess Ilamateuctli.
A female prisoner was selected to represent her, and was clothed
k the habit of her idol. They made her dance alone to a tune
which some old priests sung to her, and she was permitted to
c*press her affliction at her approaching death, which, however
esteemed a bad omen from other victims. At suri-se't. on
24

The Wonder} <f

the day of the festival, the priests adorned with the ensign
Various gods, sacrificed her in the usual manner and afterwi
cnt i}ff her iiead, when one of the priests, taking it in his hi
began a dance, in which he was joined by the rest. The pri
during this festival, made a race down the stairs of the tem|
and the following day the populace entertained themselves <
game similar to the Lupercalia of the Romans; for rum
through the streets, they beat all the women they met with I
bags of hay. In this 6ame month they kept the festival of ]
tlanteuctli, god of hell, on which they made a nocturnal sacr
*f a prisoner and also the second festival of Jacateuctli, go
the merchants. The name Tititl, which they gave to this mo
: signifies the Constringent power of the season which the cold
taltotnr.

THE WORKS OF GOD DISPLAYED.
Singular accounts of Iron found in the Earth.
[Eng. Mag.]

Iroh is one of the imperfect metals, but the hardest ami*
useful, as well as the most plentiful of them all. It is of a ft
whitish colour, inclining to grey, and to appearance, intern
oompoA of small facets, or small surfaces : susceptible <
fine pbbgh, and capable of having its hardness more incres
int dimnnbed by certain chemical processes, than any 01
metal. /

It is very generally diffused throughout the globe, being

Siently found mixed with sand, clay, chalk, and being likei
e colouring matter of a great number of stones and* earth,
is found also in the ashes of vegetables, and in the blood of
iroals, in such abundance, that some authors have attribi
both the colour of vegetables and the vital fluid itself, to
iron contained in them. In consequence of this abundai
the iron ores areVktremely numerous.

Native iron, formerly thought not to have an existence
where, if now certainly known to have been met with in :
eral places. It is, however, by no means common, but oc<
sometime* In iron mines. Margraaf found a fibrous kind c
at Eibenstock, in Saxony : and Dr. Pallas found a mass in
beria, weighing 1600 pounds. Mr. Adahson likewise mfo
us, that native iron is common about Senegal ; but some w
talisf s are of opinion, (hat those species which have been ta

Natut* and Providence,

187

for native iron, are, in reality, artificial and have been acci-
feotally buried in the earth. The large piece mentioned by Dr.
Pallas, is of that species called red short which is malleable
irhencold, but brittle when red hot. A mass of a similar na-
ureis said to have been lately found in South America.

This American mass of iron was discovered by some Indians
in the district of Sontiago del Estero, in the midst of a wide
attended plain. It projected about a fool above the ground,
ind almost the whole of its upper surface was visible ; and the
news of its being found in a country where there are no moun-
tains, nor even the smallest stone, within a circumference of 100
leagues, could not but be very surprising. Though the jour-
ley was attended with great danger on account of the want of
rater, and abundance of wild beasts in these deserts, some pri-
vate persons, in hopes of gain, undertook to visit this mass ;
ind, having accomplished their journey, sent a specimen of the
netal to Lima and Madrid : where it was found; to be very
rare, soft iron. As it was reported that this mass was only the
itreraity of an immense vain of the metal, a commission was
jiven to Don Michael Rubin de Celis to examine the spot, and
he following is an abstract of his accounts.

" The place is called Otumpa, in lat. 27, 28 S. and the mass
ras found almost buried in blue clay au/l a^shes. Externally,
i had the appearance of very compact iron ; but internally was
all of cavities, as if the whole had formerly been in a liquid
tate. I was confirmed in this idea (says our author) by ob-
eying on the surface of it, the impressions of human feet and
lands of a large size, as well as of the fret of large birds, which
ire common in this country. Though these impressions seem
rery perfect, yet I am persuaded, that they are either a lusus
latere, or that impressions of this kind were previously on the
ground, and that the liquid mass of iron falling upon it, rece ved
them. It resembled nothing- so much as a mass of dough,
*hich having been stamped with impressions of hands and feet,
marked with a finger, had afterwards been converted into

iron.

On digging round the mass, the under surface was found
covered with a coat of scoriae, from four to six inches thick,
undoubtedly occasioned by the moisture of the earth, because
the upper surface was clean. No appearance of generation was
observed in the earth below or round it to a great distance.
About two leagues to the eastward is a brackish mineral spring,
tfo only one to be met with in all the country. The earth iu
every part about this spring, as well as near the mass, is very
light, loose, and greatly resembling ashes even in colour. The
S^ss of the adjacent parts is very short, spall and extremely

1^6 The Wqnderj of

unpalatable to eattle ; but that at a distance is long and ex-
tremely grateful to them ; from all which circumstances, it is

{irobable, that this mass was produced by a volcanic explosion,
ts weight might be estimated at about 300 quintals* It is
likewise an undoubted fact, that in these forests there exists t
jpass of pure iron, in the shape of a tree with its branches. At •
Jittle depth in the earth are found stones of quartz, of a beautifal
red colour, which the honey gatherers, the only persons who
frequent this country, make use of as flints to light their fires.
They had, formerly, carried some of them away, on account of
their peculiar beauty, being spotted and studded as it were with
gold. One of these, weighiug about an ounce, was ground by
the governor of the district, who extracted from it a drachm of
gold."

The native iron, said to have been found about Senega), halt
cubical form ; and out of this, the black inhabitants make (fit
ferent kinds of vessels for their own use. Some masses hue
been found in a polyhedral, granulated form, and of a bright
yellow colour ; but which, on being polished, show the proper
colour of. the metal. Mr. Bergman informs us, that the great
mass of native metal found in Siberia resembles forged iron ia
its composition, a centenary or 63 grains, yielding 49 cubic in-
ches of inflammable»ai»; and from many experiments it appears,
that ductile iron yields from 48 to 51 cubic inches of the same
kind of air. Dr. Matthew Guthrie informs us, that " the pores
of this iron were filled with a yellow vitrious matter, of such
hardness as to cut glass."

THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD.
The Backslider reclaimed by a singular Providence.
[Meth. Mag — Eng.]

A pious tradesman conversing with a minister on family wor-
ship, related the following highly instructive circumstance in-
specting himself. *

" When I first began business for myself, I was dotermio^'
through grace, to be particularly conscientious with respect *°
family prayer. Accordingly, 1 persevered for many year* 10
the delightful practice of domestic worship. Morning and e**"
nfaig every individual of my family was ordered always \xp
present ; nor would I allow my apprentices to be absent on
account. In a iew years the advantages of these engagem^*1

Nuturt und PrQvidtnce. 189

peared manifestly conspicuous : the blessings of the upper
] nether springs followed me, health and happiness attended
' family, and prosperity my business. At length such was
' rapid increase in trade, and the necessity of devoting every
wble moment to my customers, that I began to think wheth-
ftmily prayer did not occupy too much of our time in the
filing. Pious scruples arose respecting my intentions of re-
pishing this part of my duty ; but at length worldly interest
roiled so far, as to induce me to excuse the attendance of
' apprentices, and not long after, it was deemed adviseable,
the more eager prosecution of our business, to make the
lyer with my wife, when we arose in the morning, suffice for
day. Notwithstanding the repeated checks of conscience
it followed this base omission, the calls of a flourishing con-
o, and the prospect of an increasing family, appeared so im-
ious and commanding, that I found an easy excuse for this
d evil, especially as I did not omit prayer altogether. My
iscience was almost seared with a hot iron ; when it pleased
Lord to awaken me by a singular Providence.
Dne day I received a letter from a young man who had for-
rly been my apprentice, previous to my omitting family pray-
Not doubting but 1 continued domestic worship, his letter
; chiefly on this subject : it was couched in the most affec-
tate and respectful terms : but judge of my surprise and
fusion, when I read these words : — " Oh, my dear master,
er, never, shall I be able sufficiently to thank you for the
cious privileges with which you indulged me in your family
otions : Oh, sir, eternity will be too short to praise my God
what I learnt there. It was there that 1 first beheld my lost
I wretched state as a sinner : it was there that I first knew
way of salvation ; and there that 1 first experienced the pre-
usness of ' Christ, in me the hope of glory.' Oh, sir ! permit
to say, never, never, neglect those precious engagements :
l have yet a family and more apprentices ; may your house
the birth place of their souls." I could read no further : —
ry line flashed condemnation in my face — I trembled — I
ddered — I was alarmed at the blood of my children and ap-
ntices, which I apprehended would soon be demanded at my
1 murdering hands !

billed with confusion, and bathed in tears, I fled for refuge
secret — I spread the letter before God — I agonized, and —
you can better conceive than 1 can describe, my feelings ;
ice it to say, that light broke in upon my disconsolate soul,
inse of blood bought pardon was obtained, fcc. &c. I irame-
tely flew to my family, presented them before the Lord, and
m that day to the present, I have been, and am determined,

iy.0 The Wonders of

through grace, that whenever business becomes too large to
permit family prayer, 1 v, ill give up the superfluous part of my
business, and retain my devotion. Better to lose a few shilling!
than become the deliberate murderer 4>f my family, pnd the in*
strument of ruin to my own soul."

MEMOIRS OF THE MARTYR POLYCARP.

The following is an affecting account of Chat strvant of God wh
was Bishop of Smyrna, in the second century, and a martyr
for the cause of Christ.

[Meih. Mag. — Eng.]

Polycarp was one of the Apostolic fathers, or one of those
early Christians, who had been taught the religion of Christ by
the Apostles themselves. He w as appointed by the bishop of
Smyrna, by St. John ; and it has been ,upposed by some an-
cient, as well as modern writers, that he was the Angel of the
church of Smyrna, to whom Jesus Christ directed the Epistle
in the Revelation of £t. John, chop. ii. " I know thy works,
and tribulation, and poverty, (but thou art rich) and 1 know
the blasphemy of them which say they are Jews, and are not,
but are of the synagogue of satan. Fear none of those things
which thou shall suffer : behold the devil shall cast some of you
into prison, that ye may be tried ; and ye shall have tribulation
ten days : be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a
crown of life." The probability that Pohcarp was the over-
seer and chief minister among the persecuted and poor chris-
tians at Smyrna, at the time when St. John had this Kevelaliom
will induce us to think very highly of this spiritual state both of
the preacher and people. !31e>sed is the man to whom Jesus
Christ says, " thou art rich/' He must be indeed rich in faidb
and an heir of eternal glory.

Polycarp. was born in the first century, and had convers*^
with many christians who had seen the Lord Jesus, while
was upon earth ; and we are told, that he used to repeat *°
others with great delight, the gracious words of our Savio**r
which had been recited to him, by those who had heard th^11
from the Saviour himself, and had been eye-witness of the mi*-^
cles which Jesus wrought. Irenrcus, who was bishop of L>0
ons, and died early in the third century, informs us that wto^
he himself was a child, he was with Polycarp in Lower Asi ^m
and, " 1 remember," says he, " the place where Polycarp ^

NeUute utld Pravidevce.

' 1M

pti taoght big going oat, and coming in, his<: manner of life
tpd the form of his person. I recollect the afecourse& which
he mde to the people, and the familiar converse which he said
he had with St. John, and others who had seen the Lord, and
how he repeated the sayings which he had heard from them
concerning Jesus, and his miracles, and "his doctrines, Poly-
carp received these things from persons who with their own
eyes had beheld the * Word of Life,' and he related them as he
bad received them, and they perfectly agreed with the scrip-
tures. These things, by the mercy of God bestowed upon me,"
continues Irenteus, "1 then heard and recorded, not on paper,
bat on my heart, and by the grace of God I continually think
oo them. We are not surprised that what the aged Polycarp
said, should make a deep impression on the mind of young
Irenaeus. The venerable and holy man, full of Christian love,
flfe St. John, who had been his teacher, would relate with deep
feasibility, and ardent love, the things which his master John,
had told him of Jesus. That blessed disciple, our readers will
^member, leaned on Jestis's bosom, and no doubt had most glo-
rious things to tell to others concerning the Saviour.

From Irenseus we learn; that there were persons living in his
fee who had he&rd Polycarp relate, that St. John the disci-,
pie of Jesus, going into the bath at Ephesus, and seeing Ce-
ri&thus in it, leaped out of it immediately, and cried, let us
haste away, lest the bath fall, for Cerinthus the enemy of the
troth is in it. Irenaeus also relates, that when Marcion, a man
who rejected the-whole of the Old Testament, and a great part
of the New, called to Polycarp in the street, and said, Polycarp,
own us ; Polycarp replied, I do own thee to be the first born of
•atan.* Hence we see that the Apostles and their immediate
successors, were careful to avoid all fellowship with persons who
were enemies of the faith and obedience of the gospel, although
they might be called christians.

It may not be improper to make an observation here, on the
character of the Roman Emperor, Antoninus Philosophus, Mar-
cus Antoninus, or Marcus Aureliusf Antoninus, for he is known
by all these names. Notwithstanding all the eulogiums which
ha?e been given to this emperor, and the many moral senti-

* Eusebius, 1. iv. c. 15.

f Like £0".d Aurelius let him reign, or bleed
Like Socrates, that mau is great iodised.

Pope's Essay on Man.

fope is no authority on such subjects.- His $ood Anrolios was a murderer of Uie
LrfJ**iaas; and Socrates so for an tndolaferas, in his very last moments, to desire that »
t^it be offlpred to Excvlnpiv*. Soorate* dt«d of a nose of hemloiii ; Sen**** <fi*rf

192 Tht Wooden of

ments which may be found in his book of Meditations, the UD*
offending christians were persecuted unto death by his orders ;
and because they would not sacrifice to idols, he asserts that
when they were martyred, they died from mere ignorant obsti-
nacy.J In his reign, Justin Martyr was put to death, and m
his reign Polycarp also sealed the truth with his blood. Mr.
Gibbon, in one part of his history of the decline and fall of the
Roman empire, when speaking of this emperor, tells us of the
" unsuspecting goodness of his heart ;" but in a subsequent ,
pompous ebulitionof infidelity, he says, that " during the whole
course of his reign he despised the christians as a philosopher,
and punished them as a sovereign. w

The emperor was, however, under some obligations to the
Christians, and ought to have treated them in a very different
manner, as will appear from the following account of the de-
liverance of his army, in answer to the prayers of the Christian
soldiers who were in it. Marcus Antoninus and his army, when ■
in Germany, were surrounded by the enemy, and were in dan-
ger of death from the want of water, when the Christian sol-
diers who were in the army, kneeled down upon the ground,
and began to make supplications to God ; which no doubt was
a strange sight to their adversaries; and report says, that there
soon followed a terrible lightning, which put their adversaries
to flight; and a great shower of rain fell upon Antoninus's army,
when all the men in it were ready to perish with thirst. This
account is mentioned both by Tertulianand Eusebius; and #edo
not doubt the truth of it. Tertulian, in his apology for the *
Christians, says, "You need only consult the letters of Marcus
Aurelius, in ^hicli that emperor bears testimony that the ChrU-
tion soldiers obtained rain by their prayers, for the assuaging
the thirst of his army in Germany."

Our readers will remember, that miracles had not ceased
when this extraordinary answer to prayer was given. Mosheitf
says, it is certain that the Roman army, enclosed by the enemy*
and reduced to the most desperate condition by thirst, in a parch-
ed desert,- was revived by a sudden and unexpected rain; and
he adds, it is beyond doubt, that a considerable number of
Christians served at this time in the Roman army, and it is ex-
tremely probable, that in such circumstances of calamity they
implored the merciful interposition of their God and Saviour.

Of the writings attributed to Polycarp, we will only mention
the epistle to the Pliilippians. That Polycarp wrote an epistle
to the Philippians we have no doubt, as it is mentioned with high
praise by Eusebius; and Irenteus informs us, that those who

: Meditation?, book xi. wet. r?.

Nature oni providence.

me (or tbtir salvation may learn from H the faith and truth
rlpcb Polycarp preached. Lib. iii. c. 3. Adv. Haerei. Je-
pfp stya, that it was read in his time Atia conventu, in the pub-
if msemblies of the Asian church ; but still we doubt whether

gwpine epistle has come down to us. From the supposed
fof Polycarp to the Philippians, as published by Bishop
, we will make a few extracts,
^-rplycarp, and the presbyters who are with him, to the
■Kb of God which is at Philippi : mercy and peace from, God
pfehty, and Jesus Christ our Saviour, be multiplied.

rejoice with you greatly in oar Lord Jesus Christ, that ye
tfrtuned the patterns of love, as became you, and that ye
jjfped forward those who were bound in chains; and that the
i$ of your faith remains, and bringeth forth fruit unto our
iiffi Jesus Christ, who offered up himself even unto death for

Swis: whom God raised up; in whom, though ye see him
ye believe; and believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable
fitfl of glory; knowing that by grace ye are saved, not by
irks, but by the will of God through Jesus Christ."
Then after an exhortation to serve God in truth, to lay aside
Ifty and vain speaking, and not to return evil for evil, fisc»
P writer of the epistle speaks of Saint Paul, and recommends
kibe Philippians to read the epistle which St. Paul wrote to
pn, in order that they mightvbe built up in the faith. "He
|tt is furnished with love stands at a great distance from all
I. But the love of money is the beginuiug of all evil. Know-
f therefore that we brought nothing into the world, and that
l shall carry nothing out, let us arm ourselves with the armour
f righteousness, and in the first place be instructed ourselves to
ilk in the commandments of the Lord." He then speaks of
le duties of husbands, wives, widows, &c. principally in the lan-
Itge of the New-Testament.

He afterwards adds, Let us constantly adhere to Jesus
Iriit, who is our hope, and the pledge of our righteousness,
bo bare our sins in his own body on the tree, who did no sin,
cither was guile fonpd in his ngouth ; but endured all things,
fet we might live through hira." Then follows an exhortation
'patience, from the example of Ignatius and others. Of a per-

* of the name of Valens, who bad been ordained a presbyter,
h said, " I am greatly troubled for him and his wife. God
lie them true repentance.

Id conclusion it is said, " Pray for kings and magistrates, and
*n for them that hate and persecute you, and for the enemies
' the cross. The epistles of Ignatius we have sent to you,

* you desire. Inform us what you know of Ignatius and his
tapanions. These things have I written to you by Crescens*

25

194

The Wonders of

Be ye safe in the Lord Jesus Christ. Grace be with you all*
w!men.w

We have selected some of the best parts of the epistle, as our
readers will find from the translation of it in Dr. Cave's Lira,
and bishop Wake's Epistles of the apostolic fathers. What we
have transcribed is unquestionably good ; but in some parts of
the epistle, subtracting the scripture texts, we have not (ami
the divine energy and unction which might be expected in in
epistle of an apostolic father, who died for the sake of the Lotd
Jesus.

We are sorry that ancient history does not furnish us with
more particulars of the life of Polycarp. Of his death, howe-
ver, we have an enlarged account, in an epistle which was wql-
ten by the church at Smyrna, after his martyrdom, to the church
of Philomelium, a city of Lycaonia, and which epistle, we be-
lieve, is generally admitted to be genuine* From this epbtfe
we shall furnish our readers with extracts, referring them to Dr.
Cave and Bishop Wake, for the translations of it, from Bishop
Usher.

" The church of God which sojourns at Smyrna, to dMt
which sojourns at Philomelium, he. : may the mercy, peace,
and love of (rod the Father, and of the Lord Jesus Christ, be
multiplied ! We have written to you, brethren, as well concert-
ing the other martyrs, as particularly the blessed Polycarp, m
whom was exhibited a martyrdom perfectly evangelical ; for hi
did not precipitately give himself up to death, but waited till be
was apprehended, as our Lord himself did, that we might iflft-
tate him."

The epistle states, that the martyrs meekly ended-ed, wide
cut with whips until their flesh was laid open even to their veflf
and arteries ; and supported by the grace of Christ, they de*
spised the torments of this world ; and the fire of savage tor
mentors was cold to those who constantly sought to avoid thai
fire which is eternal. " With the eyes of their heart they bri
respect to the good things reserved for those who endure 5—
things, ' which eye bath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it en*
tered into the heart e£ man to conceive.9 "

And now the whole mulWtwie cried out, " Destroy the Athe-
ists ; (the Christians whom they called Atheists,) let Polytxrj
be sought far. A person of the name of Quintus, lately cow
firomrhrygia, his native country, on sight of the wild beasts, wif
seised with fear and trembling, although he had persuaded soon
persons to present themselves before the tribunal, of their own
accord. Him the proconsul, by soothing speeches, induced to
swear and to sacrifice. On this account," say the writers o:
this epistle, " we do not approve of those who offer themselves
tt martyrdom ; for we have not so learned of Chri?t.r

Nature and Providence.

195

Polycarp, when he heard what was passing, was quite an*
moved, and desired to remain in the city ; but, on the entrea-
ties of his friends, he retired to a village at a small distance,
and spent his time in praying night and day for himself and for
die churches of God. Three days before he was sened by the
public officers, he had a vision while he was praying in the
night " He saw his pillow consumed by fire, and, turning to
the company, he said prophetically, I must be burnt alive." —
Wken the officers approached to take him, he retired to anoth-
er village; but one of his servants was compelled hy torture to
p?e information of the place of his retreat. The officers then
vat in pursuit of him, taking the servant as their guide, and
wiving in the evening, they found bim lying in an upper room
it the end of the house, whence he might have made his escape;
htt be would not, saying, The will of the Lord be done. He
cane down and conversed with jhe officers, and ordered meat
aid drink to be set before them, and begged them to allow him
ooe hour to pray without molestation, to which they agreed. —
* He prayed standing, full of the grace of God, so that he could
not be silent for two hours ; and the hearers were astonished,
aad many of the officers repented that they were come to seize
so excellent a man."

When he had ceased praying, they set him on an ass, and led
lh to the city, and he went on cheerfully under the conduct of
lb guards to the Stadium.* As he entered on the Stadium, a
ttice from heaven said to him, " Be strong, Polycarp, and act
valiantly." No person indeed saw him that spake, " but many
of as Christians," say the writers of this epistle, " heard the
voice." As the miraculous interposition of divine power, in
support of the religion of Jesus, had not yet ceased, there is
not, in our opinion, any thing incredible in this account. There
is sufficient reason to believe, from ecclesiastical history, that
miracles continued to the end of the second century. Thus far
we may go at least, without being deemed too credulous by
sensible Christian men.

When it was understood that Polycarp was apprehended,
there was a great shout among the people. The proconsul ask-
ed him if he was Polycarp, to which he replied, he was. The
proconsul then advised him to have compassion on himself, at
his great age, and to swear by the fortune of Caesar ; to repent,
*nd to say, Take away the Athsists, (meaning the Christians.)
Swear, said the proconsul ; reproach Christ, and I will release
4ee. Polycarp nobly replied, eighty and six years have i

SOLVED CHRIST, AND HE HATH NEVER DECEIVED ME, AND HOW

* The Stadium w*s the place where the games tod skews were exhibited. Thr> A»i-
,,ic citie* med the Stadium for the diversion* of the Roraen Amphitheatre.

The Wonders of

CAN I BLASPHEME HIM WHO IS MY KING AND MY SAVIOUE 1— '

Swear by the fortune of Crcsar, said the proconsul again,
am a Christian, said Pol} carp. I have wild beasts, saidtb
proconsul, and I will expose you to them, unless you report
Let them be brought forth, said Polycarp. Since you despis
the wild bests, 1 will tame vour spirit by fire, said the procoo
sul, if you do not change your mind. You threaten me wit
fire, answered Polycarp, which burns for a moment, but y©
are ignorant of the punishment of eternal fire, which is resen
ed for the tingodly. But why do you delay ? Do what yo
please.

Polycarp was filled with confidence and joy ; and grac
shone in his countenance. The proconsul was also visibly ear
barrassed ; but he sent an herald to proclaim thrice in th
midst of the assembly, Polycarp has professed himself a CkrL
tian I Upon which the multitude, both Jews and Gentiles, show
ed aloud, This t& the teacher ofMsm, the father of Christum
and they desired that a lion might be let out against him. Bi
the Asiarch* refused to do it as he said that the amphitheatr
cal spectacles of the wild beasts w> re finished. They then aim
imously shouted, thai hi should be burnt alive. When he wi
praying, he saw the fire kindling, nd turning to the ChrisOtl
who were with him, he said, Imvst be burnt alive. Preparatic
was made for burning him, with all possible speed. The ma
titude Gathered fuel from the workshops and baths, in wlic
employment the Jews distinguished themselves with their uiw
malice against the followers of Christ.

As soon as the fire was pn pared, he stripped off his clotln
and loosed his girdle. When he was to be fastened to the stall
with nails, he said, let me remain as 1 am ; for He who fpni
me strength to bear the fire, will enable me to remain unmovc
in it : upon which he was hound only, and not nailed. H
then prayed, O F aher of thy beloved Son Je.<u* Christ, throng
whom 1 have received the knowledge of thyself, I bles* thl
that thou hast br light me to this day, to take my portifl
among the number of martyrs, and to drink of the eupof Chris

Wherefore 1 praise thee for all thy mercies ; I glorify tin
by the eternal Hi^h Priest, Jesus Christ, thy well beloved Sor
through whom, with him in the Holy Spirit, be glory to thi
both now and for ever. Amen.

When he had pronounced Amen aloud,f and finished h

• The priettfr of the Ontiles of Asia were called Asiarchs

f There i» wrarcel) any doubt tiia< it w*« the t u.-foni of the priniitirr Christian! to
peat Amm aloud. When people are in earne st for the sa'vation of their goal* tb
will not be ashamed of repeating AmennudMy. Valoius in his notes on Eiwebir
•ays, that it was of old theemtotn of the Christians, load I v to resound the Ame**t *
end of the prayer.

Nature and Provi&nce. 197

prayer, the officers lighted the fire. A great flame arose which
had the appearance of an arch, or the tail of a vessel filled with
wind, and it was as a wall round about his body. At length
. jibe Confector, an officer whose business it was to kill any wild
fast which was likely to endanger the lives of the spectators of
the games, approached, and plunged his sword into Polycarp's
body. The Christians endeavoured in vain to obtain his body
iter his death. The Jews especially watched and opposed
ifcem when they were about to take it from the pile, lest they
ibould leave Jesus who was crucified, and begin to worship Po-
lycarp; but the centurion perceiving the malevolence of the
Jews, placed the body in the midst of the fire and burnt it.—
They were ignorant, say the writers of this account, that we
coald never relinquish Christ or worship any other. We adore
the Son of God, and have a proper affection for the martyrs.
Tfe or eleven brethren from Philadelphia suffered at the same
line with Polycarp.

? After several expressions of affectionate regard to the memo*
rjr of Polycarp, the following doxology is added to the Epistle'
Irom which the above account is taken. ' To him who is able
. to conduct us all by his grace and free mercy into his beaven-
: jy kingdom, by his only begotten Son Jesus Christ, to Him be
^£lory, honour, power, majesty for ever. Amen. Salute all
e "<ie saints. Those who are with us salute you.,#
• \ Polycarp was born in the reign of Nero, and suffered mar-
1 -tyrdom in the reign of Marcus Antoninus, in the year of Christ
16? He appears to have been a true Christian, possessed of
great sincerity and simplicity of soul, and labouring in every

nsible way to spread the knowledge of his God and Saviour,
las been thought that he was the venerable man, who met
t Justin Martyr by the sea side, and began to talk to him of the
•*riptures of God ; and whose word was blessed to Justin's
conversion. They were both martyrs within a few years of
**ch other.

About th«» time of the death of these two holy men, or near-
er the end of the second century, the Gospel of Jesus Christ was
planted in France amidst the hottest persecution. But, by the
power of God, the weak things of the world were made to con-
found the wise, and the doctrine of the cross triumphed over the
•right and malice of its enemies. The poor Christians were
fated of all m w, as their Lord had said ; and all manner of
^1 Has said of them falsely, by all ranks of men. They were
seldom allowed hearing in their own vindication, and were fre-
<pently condemned on the bare mention of the name of Christian,

* A great part of the epistle from which oar account of the raarhrrdom of Polycarp i*
^.SgiTeo by Euaebius, lib. 4. c 15. and the whole of it by Bitbop Uther. ^

198

The Wonders of

without the least examination. It was then as common for ig-
norant and wicked men, to associate every thing vile and des-
picable with the name of Christian, as it was forty or fifty yews
ago with .the name of Methodist.

Those who were most eminent in the churches of Vienna and *
Lyons were apprehended. Some of them had heathen servants,
who were seized, and fearing that they should be tortured, they
falsely accused their christian masters of conduct like that oT
Thyestcs, who eat his own son ; and of incest like that of MMi-
pus, who cohabited with his own mother ; and of various other
crimes which cannot be mentioned. These stories raised the
fury of the people against the Christiaus, and no mercy wu
shewn them. Even those who had formerly been their friends,
were enraged against them, and became their enemies. The
Judges tortured them in all possible ways, in order that they
might confess that they had killed children and eaten them, and
committed incest. A woman servant of the name of Blandina,
was tortured for a whole day, and after l er body had been
pierced and mangled in the most shocking manner, and her tor-
mentors were surprised to find that she was still alive, she revi-
ved in such a degree as to be able to say, lama Christian, and
there is no wickedness committed among us.*

We could say a great deal more on the sufferings of the an- ;
cie'it Christians, but we refer our readers to a tract on this sub-
ject, published by Mr. Wesley many years ago, and which may
be found in the ninth volume of his works. From an epistle of
the churches of Vienna and Lyons, it appears that the christians
at those places, were prohibited from appearing in the market, or.
even in anj houses, except their own. The mob cast stones at
them, beat them, dragged about their bodies, and stole their
goods. At length the christians were brought before the gover- *
nor, who treated them with great savageness ; and our Lord'*
words were fulfilled, u The time will come when whosoever
killeth you, shall think that he doeth God service." The fury °f
the multitude, of the governor, and of the soldiers, at last end**
in the murder of these blessed and holy persons. The empero**
Marcus Antqpinus, that wise and good emperor, as he has be&*
miscalled by some christian writers, was acquainted with wbat
was going on, and gave directions that those who confessed the*1*"
selves to be christians should be put to death, but that the ap**s-*
tates should be dismissed. f

Irenteus whom we have mentioned in the beginning of t***5
account, was the bishop of Lyons, anno 169, and suffered
tyrdom in a second persecution of the christians there, in whi^*2

*Kusebini, lib. 5 c. 1.

JVctitft (mi Providence.

199

» streets of the city, says an ancient writer, were made to flow
th blood. Irensens was a man of sonnd understanding, great
nletioo, and true piety, and there is no doabt that when be
s ray young, the preaching and conversation of Polycarp,
de a deep impression on his mind. His book against here-
I, was suited to the times in which it was written. He was
pan of learning, and was especially well acquainted with
ids literature ; bat his soul was humbled at the foot of the
lift and inflamed with an ardent desire for the salvation of
stfTs. He studied, with great diligence, the barbarous lan-
ige of the Gauls, and most willingly submitted himself to die
joBshed manners of a poor and illiterate people, in order
t be might bring souls to the knowledge of God in Christ
it*

Bis views of the doctrines of Christ, were similar to those of
itin Martyr* He defended the doctrine of the power in man9
choose or refuse eternal happiness ; and he states no doctrine
irrespective election like that of Austin or Calyin. " Man,"
a he, " was the cause of his own fall, and continues to be so
ty day ; and that is the cause of precepts, reproofs, rewards,
I punishments." Lib. .4. In his third book, he speaks dear*
of the influences of God's spirits, and says, M Where the
irch is, there is the Spirit of God, and where the Spirit of God
there is the church."

n our account of Justin Martyr, we mentioned the profligacy
Srescens, the cynic philosopher,* who, notwithstanding his
tminable crimes, was pensioned by the emperor Marcus An-
inus, who was himself a stoic, and a great protector of various
tes of proud, conceited, vicious men, who called themselves
losophers. We will now give a short account of another
lie of this period, who pretended to embrace Christianity, and
fcived the christians for some time. We mention this case of
*ptton, for the purpose of illustrating the character of the
sutive christians, and of shewing that the same love of the
thren, which pervaded their minds, has descended to those

The cynic philosophers were insufferably insolent, and, at the same time many
ftm were extremely dirty and nasty, such was Diogenes in his tab, with his

and his wallet. The stoic pbilosopheis were much more numerous, and not
haughty and self sufficient than the cynics The prime maxim of the stoics

to live according- to nature, or me flesh, or man's own desires, which thev
were of God. To all such men the doctrine of the cross of Christ, mast af.
» be foolishness as it is a humbling doctrine, and requires men to live, not after
lash, but the spirit

i the first propagation of Christianity, the Abbe' Fleary informs as, the Devil
bis apostles among Pagans, as several -philosophers travelled about, tod ha-
ded the people in great towns under the pretence of reforming their manners,
in reality to bring them hack to their former superstitions. Among other phi-
then who were employed in this work, Fleury mentions, Demetrius the cynic :
toius (who was kept at Rome by Vespastian, although all the rest were ban-
I from thence) Damis, the Pythagorean ; Epicetetus thf stoic ; Lucian an epicu-
. and Diogenes the younger, a cynic. it ■

200

The Wonders of

who love our Lord Jesus Christ, at the present time. The
name of this deceiver was Peregrinus, and our account of him
is taken principally from Lucian,* a celebrated Greek writer of
considerable wit, and learning in the second century who se-
verely satyrized the theology and philosophy of the Pagans,
whilst, at the same time, he manifested the greatest contempt,
of Jesus Christ, aud the christians.

Peregrinus, or Proteus, as he not improperly called himse&
had been guilty of various crimes, and, among others of pans* l
cide, for which he was driven from his own country, and cqohg
into Judea, he learned, says Lucian, " the wonderful wisdoatf ;
the christians.9' This is spoken in contempt of the cbrismm 4
whose leader Christ, Lucian adds, whom they yet adore,*
was crucified in Palestine for establishing this now sect. Pel*
grinus took upon himself the profession of Christianity,
as he possessed considerable talent*, to which was added thr
appearance of real piety, he soon gained the love of thed^f^
tians, and obtained considerable influence amonc them. MA
Lucian says, he explained their books, " and, in short, Vflj$1
all in all to them," we think it very probable that he becaMJj.jj
preacher among them, and on that account he would be 4k
more esteemed by them.

It is evident that the christians believed that Peregrinus
a true convert to God, and as he was not ashamed to
himself to them, and to bear the reproach of being a folio
of Christ crucified we are not surprised that they received I
as a brother, so long as they saw nothing inconsistent
Christianity in his conduct. His connection with the chris
was continued until he was apprehended and imprisoned on 1
count of it ; and this, as is insinuated by Lucian, brought A|;
into the greatest fame and consequence among the christiatf^
and was what he ardently desired. During his imprisoDraffrti
the love of the christians towards him, was shewn in .a molt
eminent degree, and is highly honourable to their profes-
sion.

They were greatly afflicted at his confinement, and did evay
thing in their power to obtain his release which however tbejT
were not able to accomplish : and persecuted aud despised a*
the christians were at that time, we cannot suppose that they
had much influence with the governor or magistrates of thj^
country. When they could not obtain his liberty, they prov»~
ded abundantly for the relief of all his wants. They watch^^
continually around the gate of the prison, in which he was cor^
fined, and even christian widows and orphans were seen waitii) ^

- L>Kiaii> account of Per*»«rrinu«

Nature and Providence.

.arty in the morning, to administer somewhat of their pittance
to,lus relief.* Some of the christians who were in favour with
:bc keepers of the prison, spent the night in prison with him,
*beu " costly suppersf were brought to them," as Lucian
ays, and " then they read their sacred books together,*'
neaning, undoubtedly, the sacred scriptures. Christians were
leputed from many cities in Asia, to converse with Peregrinus,
tod comfort him, and carry money to him, and his imprison-
oeot seems to have excited the general attention of the chris-
2108 of that period.

"It is incredible", says Lucian, " with what diligence and
ihcrity these people support and defend the public cause : in
boil, they spare nothing to promote it. Peregrinus being-
Hide a prisoner on their account, they collected money for him,
tod be made a very pretty revenue of it. These poor creatures,
the christians) it seems, had persuaded themselves that they
bonld be immortal, and therefore they despised death." This
opercilious heathen next informs us, that they were taught by
heir first law-givef (Jesus) that they were all brethren, and
hen he adds that, "quitting the Grecian Gods, they worship
heir own sophist (Jcmis) who was crucified, and live in obedi-
•ce to his laws ; and of consequence they look with contempt
■ all woildly treasures, and enjoy every thing in common."
knee, says he, " if any cunning impostor whd knows how to
nnagc matters, comes into their society, he immediately be-
«mes rich, by imposing on the credulity of these weak and
bolish people." It is very natural for a man who is ignorant
if the effects of true Christianity on the mind, to speak in thi*
Banner, while his language is, at the same time, the strongest
estimony in favour of the people, whose principles he knows
lot, and whose conduct he contemns.

The governor of Syria at length ga\e Peregrinus his liberty.
»d lie returned into his own country. Mere, however, he was
ireatened with a pro -mention for hi** former offences, and once
ore he was obliged to tly. and he connected himself with the
iristians a second time, being sure of wanting nothing through
cir charity, which he again abused. After some tinip, howev-

\ Tlii* rrininr!;: \\* of the affix tirtn of tin- '*}ir:r,i;i!i woiupii and < hilri-. n of Tv r", sIh.-wti
I'uul in hi* \v::, 5 to Je.rtiftHk-iii. Al"i«-r F;nil Imd »urri» d n d.«>s Kt Tyi;:, th<:
^•«'iau* there a- ■ •-.inp.umi d liini lo.tl-c «»hip in vi'inh L« w:.* to -.:i; from tli'iui-.
• fy all hiAitghr on our way v/ilh «»«i7*s and cni/Jmi* t 1! wr worn cut 1,:' fr.c rip. .

* kn« » wd <i*i-.vii on th. s-l.oiv -infi pr^yd ; nnd vv in-ii \vr- !.:id tiik.-n or.v Ui\\*\ on»;
«"lh« 1, v:* irn.li j,!si;, .ind «1h v n.h.iin u ii-n:< n-jr > :\" A' 21

L»|i inn may ;d;iK!" he l ' , \*> li " I-') "* -V* :^'- of lV> j.» -ri.-iliw- r].\ i*i hti">«. and prohibit

* «wi* to n pr» ^nt (!:« in :ir < .-liv find • \t:\i*"riL;iii:\ tviii'-t it ii«.-\i<iinl that lu» knrv
•""hi.^ i.,f 'j.,. iu:i!it-r \\*x <«I t.iii*-, I! ;tt IVi«'£i .in- wiuniliod li\ tin

* **:ui»4, v i;li t:;»- t ", t • • - Hi 'iit i!< w Scv 1 .in .-, i\»m!i i* no du'ilit, *i ni>li IhIiiim<,.
.'-in,*- thr rlni»ii'iii« mi<''.-. bi ti-r ;md v.uii'd ni'i< b f'K-n* • •:!!:■ bin \v4lh * »-j •

2Q2

Tlx Wunieu $

er, the christians were fully convinced of his hypocrisy,
was excluded from all intercourse with (hem.

When Peregrinus was discarded hy the christians, he
hair grow, put on a dirty gown, and took up the club s
satchel, like a true synic. In an expedition to Egi
shaved onehalf of his head, rubbed his face with mud, an<
himself with a rod in the presence of a great multitude <
pie. He afterwards went into Italy, and abused every
he came near, particularly the emperor, who did not
proper to punish a man who had the appearance of a philo
and one whose profession it was, as a cynic, to deal out o
and slander. The governor, however, was not able t
his impertinence, and drove him away, observing that tl
pie did not stand in need of such a philosopher. His c
at last rendered him despicable in the eyes of the po
and he ended his life iii Greece, by throwing himself hit
ai the time of the celebration of the Olympic games.

We would, in conclusion, just observe, that in the pi
christians, and the present Methodists, we see such a cc
ity of character and spirit, as convinces us that the relij
the Methodists is of God. The christian love of the Met
is daily manifesting itself in the same manner as that
christians of the second century, when Lucian wrote;
(hough in some instances it may be misplaced, and an un
modern Peregrinus may be the object of it, it is still th
blessed fruit of the power and spirit of God in the soul,
is an indubitable proof that God is with us, and that we s
perimentally acquainted with genuine Christianity. In
merciful days of liberty of conscience, and abundant pro
of religion in England, we may expect that deceivers of \
kinds will arise ; but this affects not the truth of chrisi
nor disapproves its operation on the mind. God has ent
the flame of christian love in the soul of every truly coi
man, and it is shewn in an especial manner in the love
brethren. In the Methodist societies we have daily am
feerless testimonies of the prevalence of this love of the
ren, and we pray God that it may increase yet more and
in conjunction with christian prudence and discernment, ii
that it may be directed to its best objects and that it m;
more eminently promote the glory 0/ God.

A WONDERFUL PROVIDENCE.
[Meth. Mag.— Eng.]
So^p years ago, David Sands and two others of the fi
or the people called Quakers, were travelling in die no

Jfaliire afiif Vrfwdqace*

and as they were passing through a village, consisting
cattered houses ; David Sands told his fellow travel--
I was impressed upon his mind to remain in that vil-
rep a meeting. His companions remonstrated with
endeavoured to point out the impracticability of it,
ier to prevail upon him to relinquish his design, they
him that the people were much engaged with the
a consequence of which, the meeting, if held, must be
ew or none would attend. But D. S~ being well ac-
rith the operations of the Spirit of God upon the
firm to what ' he was convinced was his duty, was un-
the arguments advanced, he therefore replied, " how-
:he meeting may be, or however few may attend, I
free in my mind to pass through this village without
e people together." On his companions observing
»s, they yielded, and directed their course towards a
;e ; and when they arrived at the door, they requested
lations for themselves and their horses, informing the
the same time, that they would make them a suitable
:e for their trouble. . The request was immediately
with, and the result of that compliance was a kind re-
id an hospitable entertainment When the people of
i were apprized of the design of their guests, they
■y necessary preparation for the meeting, while D. S.
>mpanions went and gave notice to the villagers re-
it. At the hour appointed, several attended ; and
j lime had elapsed in silence, D. S. arose and addressed
iny. The manner in which he commenced his address,
ient to excite surprise and inquiry hi every breast. —
led his hearers, that it was impressed upon his mind,
psoii among them had the instruments of death about
that the same person had prepared them for his own
n. After thus pointing out the evil itself, he then ex-
? person to desist from his awful design, and warned
e fatal consequences which would most assuredly fol-
au attempt. He also informed the people that, al-
; did not know the individual personally, yet he was
persuaded of the truth of what he had asserted, by his
eye," or the eye of his mind, as though he had seen
ments with the eyes of his body,
le was thus enlarging upon the deed, which he^ was
I the person was going to perpetrate, an individual
ved to weep, and those around suspected him to be
i. D. S. concluded the whole with a suitable ex-
to the company at large, and left many under serious
ns. When the mwtinjj was concluded, die person

The Wonders of

who was observed to weep, came up to David Sands, dre*
brace of pistols from his pocket, told him that he had prepare
them for his own destruction,' and that he intended to put t
end to his existence that same night ; but on hearing there woa
be a meeting of the friend^ he thought lie would attend : and,'
he supposed there would be no person to speak, he judged I
could sit and meditate without interruption concerning the be
means to accomplish his design. IJe also informed him, that:
soon as the instruments of death were mentioned, he was stnu
with terror, and that it was certainly the hand of God forgo*
to his soul. He aflirmcd too, that David Sands must W
known his design by divine revelation, as he had not commur
cated it to a single individual. I have the happiness to ftf
that the horrid deed of suicide was not only prevented, bat tl
man was convinced of siii, became serious, and satan was d
prived of his expected prey. How can the sneering patrons
infidelity account for this ? Both- an extraordinary injluam
the Holy Spirit, and a particular Providence appear visible; tl
former in the circumstance being revealed to David SaflA
and the latter, in snatchiug the poor deluded man from endk
ruin. And if God, in particular cases, reveals to his servas
certain circumstances at this period, is it a tiling incredibl
that " holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Ho
Ghost" in earlier times ?

CONVERSATION BETWEEN A DEIST AND A
CHRISTIAN.

The following dialogue took place on the outside of a Post Coa
during a short journey through the eastern part of Cornw*
England.

[Meth. Mag. — Eng.]

Deist. It is a pleasant morning, Sir, and bids fair fo*
warm day.

Christian. Yes, Sir, the country at this season of the
has a most delightful appearance.

D. The country in Cornwall looks remarkably uneave*
think more so than most couuties in England.

C. Perhaps, Sir, }four observation is just. I was nC
out of Cornwall, and therefore cannot judge ; but I have
many others make the same remarks.

If. Then you are no great traveller.

■

JVafiire dnd FroviJetat,

C. No, Sir. N --

D. Pray, do you know this gentleman who advances tin*
hill against us ?

C. No, Sir, he is a perfect stranger to me.

D. He seems by his appearance, to be a clergyman ; at
least he has the garb.

C. He has that appearance, and it is highly probable that
your conjecture is fight.

I). Pray what kind of men are the clergy, of Cornwall f
for, as you have spent your time in the county, I suppose you
mit know.

C. So far as I am acquainted with them 1 will give you my
opinion, and that is, that there are among them many worthy
characters, but I am sorry to observe that there are many ex-
ceptions to the general rule.

D. They tell me that the people in Cornwall are very re-
ligious ; is it so?

C. I know not that I can give you a more suitable answer
Aao my last. There are many worthy characters, but there
are many exceptions to the general rule.

D. Well, Sir, whatever may be the opinions of men, cer-
tain it is, that religion is pretty nearly at an end.

C. -How do you mean, Sir ? %

D. I mean that the whole is a cheat, and that the bible has
been lately proved to be a forgery.

C. By whom, Sir, have these things been proved r
/). By learned men.

C. By infidels, I suppose.

D. That, Sir, is the language of prejudice, but it is such as
js generally used on these occasions, and when we consider the
Ignorance in which the world has been kept, it would be folly
,0 expect better.

C. Perhnps, Sir, you call these gentlemen Deists K

1). No, Sir, that language is nearly related to the former,
a«d is the offspring of superstition.

C What name, then, do you give them ?

D. Philosophers.

C\ But how have these philosophers proved the Bible to b«
a forgery ?

D. By divr sting their minds of pre-conceived opinions, they
Jj^ve been enabled 10 investigate the question in its native light.
*hey have been enabled thus to make an application of abstract
'^soiling to the subject of their investigations, and the improve-
ments which had ham made in metaphysical disquisition, have
gabled them to detect the falsehood of that book on which thv
hristian world has *o long built its faith.

•20B

The IVoiiHtrs $

V* Why Jfcally, Sir, if wliat you say be true, these men must
Jiave entered into the heart of the question.

D. They most assuredly have, and the result has been that
religion is now almost totally discarded in the higher circles of
life.

C. I am not satisfied that the Bible must be a forgery, be-
cause religion has been rejected in the higher circles.

D. True, Sir, I would not attempt to adduce this as any di-
rect proof ; yet, as these men, from their exalted stations in lift,
must have enjoyed the benefit of a superior education, and mast
have had much leisure at their command, they must be more
competent to investigate and judge; and since the result of
their enquiries has been a disavowel of Revelation, it furnishes
us, at least, with a presumptive evidence of it? want of authen-
ticity.

C. If the reasonings you have advanced are conclusive,
they will apply with equal force to the morals of these men, for
on these also they must have had leisure to weigh and judge-
I have, however, heard that their morals are not much better
than those of other men. And if the result of their judgments
has been found defective in one point and that too an impor-
tant one, I think we may be well justified in suspecting it in
another.

D. I must confess that, in point of morality, I should not
like to hold them up to my children as objects of imitation; so
that, on the whole, we have not much reason to place any de-
pendence upon education and leisure, tho' they ought to be what
I have stated.

C I most readily grant it, so that thus far we are agreed.

D. But the writings of ttyese Philosophers speak for them-"
selves. Their investigations ire jso acute, and their arguments-
are so forcible, that they almost irresistibly produce convictionv-
in every unprejudiced mind. .

C. I presume, Sir, from the confidence with which you speak--B
that you are well acquainted with their works.

D. Most assuredly, I have examined their arguments, other —
wise it. would have been highly presumptuous for me to speak

I do, and consequently I cannot be ignorant of their books.

C. Will you have the goodness, Sir, to name some o£40ie&» <
authors whom you praise so lavishly ?

D. I may name a few, Voltaire, Russcau, Hume, and Vo~2
ney.

Cm I have heard of some of these, names before now.
thought from your say mp, " lately improved" that the Bible he*
been attacked by some authors whose names T had nwer he***-"1

U. These are the principal ; besides, Volney is quite a mod-
i writer, and it is to his writings that I principally allude.

C. Then, 1 presume, you are better acquainted with- his wri-
58 than with those of the others.

D. Yes, I am.

C. Is Volney an acute rcasoner r

D. Remarkably so.

C. Was there not some book written oti some of these sub-
Is by one Paine? I think 1 have heard such a report.

D. Yes, it is entitled, «k The Age of Reason."

C. I suppose you have seen this as well as Volney's r

D. I have.

C To which do you give the preference ?
D. O Sir ! there is no comparison between them* The writ-
It of Paine are low and grovelling, calculated entirely for
e vulgar; while those of Volney are learned, philosophical,
d elegant ; his arguments are both dignified and conclusive.
C. What rank in your estimation does Volney hold, when
mpared with Voltaire and the other writers, whose names you
mtioned?

I). He is their superior; because to the force of their argu-
nts he has added the energy of his own. In short, Volney
iy be considered as a complete Philosopher.

C. (Lifting his elbow from the coach on which he had been
ning) I must confess, Sir, that I admire your frankness, hotv-
ir much I may dislike your principles, I give you credit for
ur sincerity, tho' I may be rude enough to question some of
ur assertions. Hypocrisy is a trait of character which I des-
e in another man, and cannot, therefore, pursue what I dis-
e in others. I have paid some attention to your observations.
i shall take the liberty to review the ground over which we
re passed. I am not altogether unacquainted with the an-
•rsyou have mentioned; not even with Volney, with whom
J seem to be most conversant. And as we have several miles
ravel together, if you please we will make the topics on which
has touched, the subjects of our investigation. In the mean-
ile, I feel no hesitation in declaring, that Volney in his "Ruins
Mnpires," (the work, I presume, you mean. D. It is Sir,)
eajj of discovering that acuteness which you have ascribed
iiAvH a defective reasoner, and that the name of philosophy
either disgraced than honoured by including that of Volney
he list of its votaries. Here, tlten, we are fairly r t issue.

D. We are at issue indeed, much more so than 1 expected.
\ Will you have the complaisance to state one of those ar-

nents which yon have been celebrating as conclusive, and

Tlit tVonders of

which Volney has urged against die authenticity of the
Kivords, or the belief of Christians ?

/). ( Silent for some time.)

C* 1 am waiting, Sir, for your reply.

D. I have been considering your question, but cam
my life, recollect what Volney has urged :

C. This, Sir, is remarkably strange, I have my doub
iher your memory could be more treacherous if I hat
you a question about the reasonings of Hume or Voltair
which you acknowledge you are less conversant. '

D. The pressure and hurry of business 'detaches thi
from such abstruse subjects, besides it is but seldom 1
have an opportunity of entering on them.

C. Your memory, however, has die happiness to rel
names of the Authors, and perhaps the Title Pages o
books ; but Title Pages and names of authors are not v
struse subjects.

D. Sir, I feel your joke, and must acknowledge I <
it, but I have a bad memory.

C. A defective memory is a convenient article in ra;
ses ; it sometimes conceals deficiencies, which we feel a
ry in exposing. However, in the present instance, I gi
credit for your acknowledgement, and lest we should los
of Volney, through that misfortune, I will endeavour <
ply it, by calling your attention to one of his favourite t

D. You will oblige me.

C. Volney, in one of his pages, accuses the Christiai
this inconsistency ; namely, a that they admit God to be
table, while they suppose that he remained inactive ti
eternity, till within about 4000 years, when he contrived t<
this world," He then asks " Why God did not ere;
world sooner ?"

D. I well recollect it. and think his question up
<*romjd of immutability to be unanswerable.

C. This remains to be decided. Are our notions
and latCydo you conceive, positive or relative ?

2). I do not exactly understand the distinction.

C. That is positive which has an independent existence
that is rdative which only exists partially, and in relai
something else.

X). I presume then that our ideas of soon and late, a
relative.

C. I agree with you ; and contend that soon and la
always have a relation to something which had a beg
With us, these ideas have a relation to the commence!
time ; and consequently as time could not have had g

i

Nature und Providence.

309

ire it began, soon and late cannot apply to eternity. Voluey,
tfore, has involved himself in an absurdity, by supposing
(and late to have existed in a period- in which successive
ition could have had no being. The utmost, therefore, to
A bis .question can amount, is this, namely, Why were we
born 40 or 50,000 years hence ? You cannot, however, but
wf that even in this case the same objections will apply ;
her is it possible to avoid them in what light soever we
'rreation. Fn short, the question amounts to no more than
—Why xv ts not the world created before it had a beginning ?
lestion which you cannot but perceive it is ridiculous even
f&te, because it is pregnant with absurdity.
K From the manner in which you leason the world could
bave been created sooner.

. Certainly not ; because neither the terms, nor the ideas
b stand for them, could have had any existence prior to
, and consequently Volney's objection vanishes into empty

Will you defend this objection further or give it up ?
. It is useless to defend his assertions, according to the
in which you have taken up the question.
■ Do you object then to my mode of arguing ?

It is useless to say any thine; further on this subject, be-
? it goes upon a false foundation, namely, that the world
created, whereas I believe that the matter of which it is
ed is eternal.

. Nothing, Sir, can be eternal but that which had a necet-
exist.nce, and that only can have a necessary existence;
bsence of which involves a contradiction. If matter was
reated its existence must be either accidental or necessary,
being the only modes to which we can possibly ascribe its
ence. If accidental, then it must have lu»d a beginning, and
?quently cannot be eternal If necessart , then matter must
finite in its extension, which we well know is contradicted
ct. The motion that is in the world will prove that there
ace without matter. We must, at this instant, be moving
r through vacuity or solidity ; you cannot suppose the
*. If then there may he, and actually is, space without
?r, matter cannot exist necessarily, because we can suppose
bsence of matter without involving a contradiction. And
'Qjyently as matter can neither exist accidentally, nor ne-
rily, it cannot be eternal, and I am inclined to think that it
equire a greater share of credulity to admit your creed,
to admit that of the Christians.

. I do not think that the belief or the disbelief of the eter-
of matter, has any thing to do with Christianity*
What. Sir. is it nothing to us to know whether Ibe recorcte

210

The Wonders of

of Moses are true or false? When he has told us, that
beginning God created the heavens and the earth ; is i
moment to us to know whether he spoke truth or false
The New-Testament appeals to the Old, and so closelj
woven are their principles with each other, that they mm
or fall together. A survey of creation unfolds to us th€
nature of God ; and the introduction of moral evil pa
way for the redemption of mankind by Jesus Christ.

D. Yes, the Bible gives us a most curious account <
facts, and he that believes them must have a curious fait!

C. But, Sir, let us simplify our question. I presur
will hardly doubt that this world and man were created ;
wise 1 must repeat what I have said on the eternity of
with some additions.

D. No, for the sake of argument 1 will admit creatic
C Perhaps, Sir,;you admit it more for the want of ar£

than for the sake of argument.

D. You may call it what you please.

C But, Sir, do you think the account given of tin
duction of moral evil, ridiculous ? D. 1 do.

C. You cannot deny that moral evil is in existence.

D. Certainly not.

C How then, think you, came it into existence, if
count of Moses be absurd ?

D. Men h».ve acquired it by bad example.

C. Did the first man acquire it by bad example r

J). I d6 not know.

C. You perceive, Sir, that the Mosaic account is
only one that is absurd.

b. If there has been no law, according to the Bibh
would have been no moral e\il. It is. therefore, a fair q
to ask, Why did God give a law to man ?

C. Between good and evil there is an eternal disti
independently of all law, and < very being which poss
moral capacity, must be capable of mora action. If, xhi
no law had been given, man would have passed the bou
of good, and have performed actions which, in themselvi
evil, without being amenable for his conduct, and while
would have been incapable of punishing a violater of wl
right A law, therefore, is a necessary consequence of <
tnre ; not given to make a distinction between good ai
but to mqtk a distinction which previously existed.

D. , But the condition of obedience imposed upon m
contemptible and mean.

C ThAnore plain and simple it was the more easirj
to be underaood, and the more extensive was human Iib<

Nature and Providence.

211

kt I am no more satisfied that it was contemptible and mean,
turn diat it was contemptible and mean in God to make toads
mi spiders.

D. What end could the prohibition of an apple answer f
G. Just the same a* any other command. It was a test of
lomage and obedience, and was, on the part of man, an ac-
aowledgement of die obligations which he was under to God.
D. This introduces to our view the idea of a compact.

C. I have no objection to consider it in that light. Know
ben that when God created man, he manifested his goodness
Dwards him ; and this goodness or b nevolence on the part of
3od, demanded gratitude on the part of man. Man, therefore,
iy his obedience manifested his pratitude in return. Thus then
be original compact stood. But in the instant in which man
Rsobeyed, he violated the compact, by withholding that grati-
ode which the^benevolence of God demanded, and thus forfeit-
ed his, title to that protection which he had hitherto enjoyed,
to exposure to punishment for th;< v iolation of compact, and
ransgression of a rule of right, bocamn the necessary consc-
ience ; and this false assumption of independence, conducted
^mediately to degradation and woe. Now, Sir, I do not think
iat this account is more ridiculous than that which supposes
le first man to have acquired moral evil by bad example.

D. Pray what time is it ?

C. I do not exactly know, but we have several miles far-
ter yet to ride. Do you not think, Sii , that the condition of
Mm from the statement which 1 have given, was considerably
hanged after his ungrateful action, from what it was before ?

D. Certainly it was.

C. Then this being the case, the next question is whether
ian should be left to perish in that lapsed condition, which
ou have admitted, or be rescued from impending woe ?

D. Ah, a!), I now perceive what you arc driving at ; you
*an to conduct* me to the precipice of redemption.

C. I do, and to continue your own metaphor, I intend to
"row you over it.

D. But Twill not admit youi ^propositions.

C. Then you shall oppose ilkem, or I will interpret your
encc into an approbation and acknowledgement. You know,
r, that you have procured this for yourself, by commencing
e attack. 1 D. I acknowledge it, and submit.

C. You allow then that the case and condition of mau were
tered by the* introduction of moral evil.

J). I do. But I cannot see any necessity that Christ should
^ ; for certainly God might have rescued man without such a
"ocess.

212

The Wonders of

C. t)o you admit the attributes of God to be essei
nature? D. 1 do:

C. Then God must be necessarily just. D. Yes,

C. Can then, 1 would ask, a being necessarily jus
his justice ? If he can, he must, during that suspensio
titute of justice ; and this will prove that justice is no
to his nature, which is contrary to what }ou have grani
if God cannot suspend his justice, you must admit the
of that very atonement, for which j-ou can see noocc
mercy can overcome justice, w hat is become of that
tence by which justice is supported ? And if it ca
can man be rescued from impending woe without an at
Will you answer these questions ?

D. I think 1 am compelled to admit the conclusion
they lead. 1 beg you will urge nothing more on this t

C. Will you then fairly allow m« those thiggs fc
have been contending ? D. 1 must.

C. Have you any other arguments or topics of a
wb cb you wish to bring forth from Volney ?

D. No ; and if I had 1 would not briitg them ; bi
lect an argument by which Paine controverts the docti
Resurrection as taught by St. Paul.

C. Will you be kind enough to state it ?
-D. Upon my honour the argument has escaped mc
member it is something about grain, and he proves St. P;

C. Perhaps, Sir, it is this St. Paul says, thou
which thou sowest is not quickened except it die : up
Paine makes this comment, Thou fool Paul, that a
sowest , is not quiet* ened except it die not.

D. Yes, Sir, that is what I meant : What can you
this?

C. To investigate this illustrative argument with
it is necessary that we should deine our terms. But,
to avoid a waste of time, we will enter at once upon t
of identity and diversity ; for to this doctrine, I think
concur with me in admitting, that our subject must s<
us.

D. Excuse me, Sir, I am not accustomed to the t
C. What terms ?

JO. Identity and Diversity.

C. Then 1 have my doubts whether you ever prope
tigatedthe question on which you have decided.

D. I never attempted to enter into it so minutely
will oblige me by defining the terms.

C. Identity means perfect sameness ; and Diversi
something that is not the same* but that is essentially ar

jYatttre and Providence.

cally different. Identity may be taken in various acceptations.
Sometimes it applies to numerical particles, sometimes to the mod-
ification of them, and at other times to relative situation. The
Identity of which St. Paul speaks, when lie applies this observa-
tion to a grain, is evidently, in the first place, that of composi-
tion of modification. A grain is a ccrt.iiu combination of par-
ticles, arranged in that particular manner which we behold, from
which we obtain a complete idea of it. No w when thi grain
it sowed in the earth, a decomposition or its parts immediately •

i takes place, and that very instant in which any of its particles
is destroyed, and consequently when the identity of modification
tod of numerical particles is destroyed, the grain dies. Still,
however, some radical statement remains, which is quickened into
fitotre life ; and in this view, all that is thrown off is but a mere

, excrescence, sufficient to destroy the original identity which
consisted in the union of all the parts, but insufficient to prevent
Warning life.

D. But can the future grain be said to be the same grain
which was sown ?

C. In one sense, it is not, in another, it is. It is not the same
in all its numerical particles, neither is it the same in the modi-
fication of them : but as this stamen of life, was actually inclu-
ded in the parent grain, and formed a part 'fit, it is really the
same that was sown, though quickened into another life, through
the separation of the particles of the parent grain of which it
formed an essential part.

D. I believe here is another Parson coming. Curse the Par-
sons, it is all their fault that I haw thus exposed myself. I beg
you will say no more.

% ^ C. Permit me then to give you this wholesome piece of ad-
v*ce. Whenever you get into company with strangers, be care-
how you attack them, unless you get better qualified to de-
te&d what j'ou advance.

D. I certainly shall take your advice. But I am determin-
ed when I get to London, to read Volney with attention, and to
^ptify myself with arguments.

. C. If you are resolved to espouse the ca^ v of infidelity, you
5?ve certainly formed a very prudent resolution. Permit me,
*rt to ask you plainly, did you ever read either Volnej or Paine?
t). That is a close question, but I will answer frankly, I have

C. Well really I admire your candour, but prey how came

by their names ?
-t). I belong to a club in London, in which these books are

and their principles discussed.
C\ But what could induce you, sensible as you muttYtwre

The Wonders of

been of your own deficiency, to commence an attack upon in* ;
as soon as we mounted the coach f

D. I thought you were a country farmer, and I wanted to
have a little fun.

C. Did you not suspect when you hegan that you wef*
committing yourself?

D. I had my suspicions after a little while, but I had gor»€
too far to retreat.

C. It was a conviction of this fact which induced me to ac-
cept jour challenge. But pray how do you like the fun y<***
have had ?

1). Just as you may suspect. I would not have had any o&
my acquaintances in company for fify guineas.

C. Well, Sir, you have left me in possession of all my argu-
ments; you have. assented to the leading features of Christianity -
and have not had one word to oppose to what I ha\e delivered*
I do not conceive that all I have advanced is conclusive. I

ly spoke from the impulse of the occasion and the moment ; bixt
I am confident that the ground on which I have stood is per-
fectly tenable ; and the event has proved, that what I have advan-
ced, has imposed silence on you. I claim no merit in conquer-
ing you, for this even a child might have dime ; my only raefit
consists in attacking you when you held out such a terrific
front

D. I beg you will drop the discourse ; we are getting
town, and I fear the people will hear us.

C. Sir, I will say no m-re. I thank you for preserving yo Of
temper, and recommt -. 1 ^ y our notice that Bible which you
have been taught to dopise.

A PRISONER AMONG THE INDIANS.

Narrative of John Slorr.r, who urns taken prisoner by the 30^*'
nmesc tribe of Indians, and J his escape from them.

[Moth. Mag.— Eng.]

The following ncrount of the wonderful deliverance of Jor"^0
Slover, an American soldier, from the Indnus. who had co^^1"
demned him, with many other prisoners, to be burnt, is extras J"
ed from his narrative, inscrtfd in Richard Parkinson's Tour
America, published at London in 180G. Richard Parkinso^**'
late of Oranere lid), near Baltimore, wrote the k< Expcrienc*^"

Nature and Providence.

215

rroer," and has been considered as aii author of undoubted
dit.

' I was taken," says John Slover, u from New River, in
ginia, by the Miamese, a nation of the Indians, by us called

Picts, amongst whom 1 lived six years. Afterwards being
1 to a Delaware, and by him put into the hand of a trader,
•as carried amongst the Shawanese, with whom I continued six
jts ; so that my whole time amongst these nation&jwas twelve
irs; that is, from the eight to the twentieth year of my age.
the treaty of Fort Pitt, in the fall preceding what is called
nmore's war, (wh'urh, if I am right, was in the year 1 77 >) I
nein with the Shawantse nation to the treaty; and meeting
h some of my relations at th it place, was by them solicited
relinquish the life of a savage, which I did with some reluc-
ice, this manner of life having become natural to me, inasmuch
I had scarfe||> known an\ other. I enlisted as a soldier in

conrioenta army at the co mnencement of the present warf
e American war; ami served iifteen months. Having been
)perly discharged, 1 have since married, have a family, and
i in communion with the church.

Having been a prisoner among the Indian- many years, and
being well acquainted with the country west of the Ohio, I
s employed as a guide in t'e expedition under Colonel Wil-
n Crawford, against the Indian towns on or near the river
ndusky, in the year 17S2. On Tuesday, June 4, we fought
i enemy near Sandusky, and lay that night in our camp.—
le next day we fired on each other at the distance of 300
rds, doing little or no execution.

Id the evening of that day, it was proposed by Colonel Craw-
d, as I have been since informed, to draw off with order; but
the moment of our retreat, the Indians (who had probably
rreived that we were about to retire) firing alarm guns, our
*n broke and rode olf in confusion, treading down those who
re on foot, and leaving the wounded men, who supplicated to
taken with them.

I was with some others, on the rear of our troops, feeding
r horses in the glade, when our men began to break. The
nil body of our people had passed by me a considerable dis-
ice before I was ready to set out. I overtook them before
iy crossed thr glade, and wa* a dvan-ed almost in front. The
topany of five or six men, with which 1 had been immediate-
connected, and who were at some distance to the right of the
*iu body, had separated from me, and endeavoured to pass
Morass: for, coming up, I found iheirhoi^es \\-<u] stuck fast in
e morass, and endeavouring to pass, mine also, in a short
A*. <tuck fast. \ fried for a long time to disengage my horse.

210

T/ie IVonden •/

until 1 could hear the enemy just behind me, and on each
but in vain. Here then I was obliged to leave him. The
rass was so unstable, that I was to the middle in it, and it
with the greatest difficulty that I pot across it ; but which
ing at length done, I came up with the six men, who hai
their horses in the same manner I had done ; two of these
companions, having hist their guns.

We travelled that night, making our course towards Del
with a view to shun the t nemy whom we conceived to hav
ken the paths by which the main body of our people ha<
treated. Just before day, we got into a second deep mo
and were under the necessity of stopping until it was lig
see our way through it. The whole of this day we trav
towards the Shawanese towns, with a view of throwing our»
still farther out of the search of the enemy. About ten o'c
this day, we sat down to eat a little, having iaq|e^ nothing
Tuesday, the day of our engagement, until this time, w
was on Thursday . And now the only tliinir we had to eat
a scrap of pork for each. Wc had sat dow n just by a wan
path, which we had not suspected* when eight or nine war
appeared. Running off hastily we left our luggage and
visions, but were not discovered by the parly ; for skull
sometime in the grass and hushes, we returned to the place,
recovered our ba«xirae:e. The warriors had halloed as
passed, and were answered by others on our flanks.

We set off at break of day. About nine o'clock the t
day, we fell in with a party of the enemy, about one hun<
and thirty-five miles from Fort Pitt. They had come upon
tracks, or had been on our flanks, and discovered us; andt
having got before, had way-laid us, and fired before we
ceived them. At the first lire, one of my companions fell
fore me, and another just behind me ; these two had gun
There were six men in company, and lour guns ; two of t
had been rendered useless by the wet, when coming thro
the swamp the first n'mht ; we had tried to discharge them,
could not. When the Indians fired, I ran to a tree ; but ai
dian presenting himself fifteen yards before me, desired 00
deliver myself up and I should not be hurt. My gun ws
good order ; but, apprehending the enemy behind might
charge their pieces at me, I did not risk firing, which I hac
terwards reason to regret, when I found what was to be my fi
and that the Indian who was before me, and presented his §
was one of those who had just before fired. Two of my c
patriots were taken with me in the same manner, the Indi
assuring -us we should not he hurt. • One of these Indians ki
me. and was of the |):.rty by whom I was taken in the last *

Nature and Providence.

217

He came up and spoke to me, calling me by my Indian name,
Mannuchcothee, and upbraiding me for coming to war against
them.

The party by whom we were made prisoners, had taken some
horses, and left them at the glades we had passed the day before.
They had followed on our tracks from these glades ; on our re-
turn to which, we found the horses and rode. We were carried
to a town of the Mingoes and Shawanese. 1 think it was on
the third day we reached the tow.n ; which, as we were approach-
| ing, the Indians in whose custody we were, began to look sour,
I having been kind to us before, and given us a little meat and

Ilour to eat, which they had found or taken from some of our
men on their retreat. This town is small, and, we were told,
was about two miles distant from the main town to which they
ittantto carry us.

The inhabitants from tin's town came out with clubs, and
tomahawks, struck, beat, and abused us greatly. One of my
two companions they seized, and, having stripped him naked,
, Hacked him with coal and water : this was the sign that he
■nst be burnt. The mau seemed to surmise it, and shed tears.
1 He asked me the meaning of his being blacked : but I was for-
bid by the enemy, in their own bui^uane, to tell him what was
intended. In English, which they spoke easily, having been
' often at Fort Pitt, they assured him he was not to be hurt. I
know of no reason for making him the first object of their cru-
} Ay, unless it was that he was the oldest.

A warrior had been sent to the greater town to acquaint them
with our coming, and prepare them for the frolic ; for on our
coming to it, the inhabitant- came out with guns, clubs, and
tomahawks. We were told, we had to run to the counc.il-
koase, about three hundred yards. The man that was blacked
*w about twenty yards before us in running the gauntlet : they
•ade him their principal object, men, women, and children,
1 ^tearing him, and those who had guns firing loads of powder in-
I tohis body, shouting, hallooing, and beating their drums in the
I time.

I The unhappy man had reached the door of the council-house,
[ j^at and wounded in a manner shocking to the sight ; for hav-
[ l!*g arrived before him we had it in our power to view the *pec-
■ Jjk; it was indeed the most horrid that can be conceived. —
[ had cut him with their tomahawks shot his body black,

i bohit it into holes with loads of powder blown into him : a

"•fge wadding had made a hole in his shoulder, whence" the
j blood gUS|ie(i.

Agreeably to the declaration of the enemy when he fir<t set

°ut« he had reason to think himself secure when he had reached

218

The Wonders of

tbe door of tbe council-house. This seemed to be his hopes ; fc
coming up, with great struggling and endeavour, he laid ho
on the door, but was pulled back and drawn away by them.-
Finding they intended no mercy, but putting him to death,
attempted several times to snatch or lay hold of some of tb
tomahawks ; but being weak, could not effect it. We saw h
bore off, and they were a long time beating, wounding, purs
ing, and killing him. That same evening 1 saw the dead bo
of the man close by the council-house. It was mangled cru
ly, and the blood mingled with the powder was rendei
black. The same evening 1 saw him, after he was cut into p
ces, and his limbs and his head, about two hundred yards onl
outside of the town, put on poles. That evening also I saw I
bodies of three others, in the same black and mangled con
tion ; these, I was told, had been put to death the same di
and just before we had reached the town. Their bodies,
they lay, were black, bloody, and burnt with powder : two
these were Harrison and young Crawford. I knew the visa
of colonel Harrison, and I saw his clothing, and that of you
Crawford at the town. They brought horses to me, and ask
me if I knew them. I said they were Harrison's and Crawford
They said, they were.

The third of these men I did uot know, but believe to ha
been colonel iVPCleland, the third in command on the expei
tion.

The next day the bodies of these men were dragged to 1
outside of the town : and their carcasses being given to tbe doj
their limbs and heads were stuck on poles.

My surviving companion, shortly after we had reached 1
council-house, was sent to another town : and I presume he v
burnt or executed in the same manner.

In the evening the men assembled in the council-house. V
is a large building, about fifty yards in length, and about tw*
ty five yards wide ; and about sixteen feet in height : built
aplit poles, covered with bark. Their first object was to exa
ine me, which they could do in their own language ; inasmtf
as I could speak the Miame, Shawanese, and Delaware U
cuages, which 1 had learned during my early captivity in 1
last war ; I found I had not forgotten these languages, especi
\v the two former, being able to speak them as well an my I
live tongue.

They bejran with interrogating me concerning the situatJ
of our country ; what were our provisions ; our numbers ; *
•: *e of the war between us and Britain. I informed th
Cornwallis had been taken ; which, next day, when Mattix

JWiture and Providence.

219

Elliot, with James Girty, came, he affirmed to be a lie, and the
Indians seemed to give full credit to his declaration.

Hitherto I had been treated with some appearance of kindness,
but now the enemy hetrau to alter their behaviour towards me.
However I was not tied, and could have escaped ; but, having
nothing to put on my feet, I waited some time to provide for
this. In the mean lime I was invite d to the war-dance?, which
they usually continued till almost day ; but 1 could not comply
with their desire, believing these things to be the service of the
devil.

The council lasted fifteen days : from fifty to one hundred
warriors being usually in council, and sometimes more. Every
warrior is admitted to these councils : but only the chiefs, or
head warriors have the privilege of speaking. The head war-
riors are accounted such from the number of scalps and prison-
ers they have taken.

There was one council at which I was not present. The
warriors had sent for me as usual ; but the squaw, with whom
Hived, would not suffer me to go, but hid me under a large
quantity of skins : it may have been from an unwillingness that
I should hear in council the determination with respect to my-
self, thaH should be burnt. About this time, twelve men were
brought in from Kentucky, three of whom were burnt on this
day : the remainder were distributed to other towns; and all,
to the Indians informed me, were burnt.

On this day also I saw an Indian, who had just came into
town, and who said that the prisoner he was bringing to be
burnt, and w ho. lie said, was a doctor, had made his escape
from him. I knew th.it this must have been Dr. Knight, who
went out as surgeon of the expedition. The Indian had a
wound four inches loutr, in his head, which, he acknowledged,
the doctor had given him : he was cut to the skull.

At this time I was told that colonel Crawford was burnt, and
they greatly exulted over it. The day after the council I have
mentioned, about forty warriors accompanied by George G!ny,
caiiu- early in the mo: ning round the l»ou*e where I was. The
*jiiaw gave nu up 1 was sitting bef >i the do .r of the house:
ttVv i>.jt a rope rcuiid irv neck, tied nn hinds behind me,
strljH-...' .I|t. .nk.-il. ;n»d Inc. 1 me in the usual manner. —
Geurg..- Gil i\ , as soon a.s I was tied, damned me ; and said, that
n*w j s!«?).ild tro* w'uu I had d« <f rved many years. 1 was led t
a*av to a t jw. , !*'-4iit about five miles, to which a messenger"
had been de>r». d, to desire them to prepare to receive me,
Arriving at ibis t*)wn, 1 was heaten wilh clubs, and the pipe
fn<ls of their tomahawks, and was kept some time tied to a tree
**fore a house door. In the mean while, the inhabitants set oat

220

The Wonders of

to another town about two miles distant, where I was tg be
burnt, and where I arrived about three o'clock in the afternoon.

Here also was a copincil-house, part of it covered, and part
of it without a roof. In the part of it where no cover was, but
only sides built up, there stood a post about sixteen feet iu
height, and in the middle of the house, around the post ther
were three piles of w<.od built, ah.mt three feet high and fou^_— •
feet from the posi. Being br.. tight t<> the post, my arms wei^a
tied behind me. and the thong or curd, with which they wer^^
bound, was fastened to the po*t ; ;i iope al>o was about m^^-
neck, and tied to the post abaui ihiv. t above my head. Dm—
ring the time they w< re i\ing me, i- e pde^nf wood were kindled
and began to flame Death, h\ binning, which appeared to
be now my fate, I had resolve* to MMi.ir with patience. The
grace of Ciod had made it !cs- aiarii.iniz to me : for, on my way
this da\, I Lad been gn atlv sensed in rega d to my latter
end. 1 knew nn.^elf to have been •« n pidar im mbcr of the
church, 10 have *.oug! t repenismce ier m\ sins ; but though I
hadof:en heard of the faith ol assurance ha ! know n nothing of it;
but early this day, instnutanvn'.isly, by a change wrought upon roc,
sudden and perceivable as liuhtniui!, and a>*urance of my peace
made with God, sprung up in my ne.nd. The following woflk
were the subject of my meditation — tk In peace shall thou see
God. Fear not those who can kill the body. In peace shall
thou epart." 1 was, on this occasion, by a confidence in mind
not to be resisted, fully r.smrcd of mv salvation. This being
the case, I was willing, satisfied and giad to die.

I was tied to tiie post, as I have already said, and the flame
was now kindled. The day was clear, and not a cloud to
seen ; if there wctc clouds low in the horizon, the sides of th^
house prevented me from seeing them : Suit I heard no thundefi,
nor observed any sign of approaching rain. Just as the fire £>i
one pile began to blaze, the wind rose: from the time wh^^
they began to kindle the lire and to lie me to the post, unt ^
the wind began to blow, about lift ecu minutes had elapsed^*
The wind blew a hurricane, and the rain followed in 'ess tha, ^
three minutes. Tin i;i d fell \iolcii:ly : and the fire, though
began to blaze conside! a!;l\ , w as instantly extinguished. Th e
rain la>led about a quart' r of an hour.

When it was over, the sa\age> stood amazed, and were a lonjB^n
time silent. At last, one said, We will let him alone ti^^
morning, and take a whole d;i\'s frolic k in burning him." Th^J
sun, at this time, was about three hours high. It was agreeC^^
upon, and the rope about my neck was untied, ind, making 6
sit down, they began to dance around me. They continued ~"
dancing in this manner, until eleven o'clock at night : in th-

Nature and Providence.

221

>eating, kicking, and wounding me with their toma-
lubs.

le of the warriors asked me If I was sleepy. I an-
es." The head warrior the'n chose out three men
? of me. 1 was taken to a block-house : my arms
ntil the cord was hid in the flesh, in two places, viz.
rist, and above the elbows. A rope was fastened
ek, and tied to a beam of the house, but permitting
vi' 1 1 on a board. The three warriors were constantly
nd troubling me, saving, u How will you like to
inrrow ? You will kill no more Indians now." I
elation of their going to sleep, when, at length, an

day-break, two laid down ; the third smoked a
I to me, and asked me the same painful questions,
an hour after he also laid down, and I heard him
Die. Instantly I went to work ; and (as my arms
tly dead with the cord) 1 laid myself down upon my
rhich was behind my back ; and keeping it fast with
which had still some life and strength ; I slipped tbe
ly left arm, over my elbow and my wrist. One of
s now got up and stirred the fire : I was apprehen-
hould be examined, and^ thought it Was over with
t hopes revived when now he laid down again. I
ted to unloose the rope about my neck, and tried to
it in vain ; as it was as thick as my thumb, and as
i, being made of a buffalo hide : 1 wrought with it
, gave it up, and could see no relief. At this time I
?ak, and heard the cock crow : I made a second at-
>st without hope, pulling the rope by putting my
veen my neck and it, and to my great surprise, it

untied ; it was a noose with two or three knots tied

er the warriors as they lay ; and, having got out of
looked back to see if there was any disturbance; I
ough the town into a corn field. In my way, I saw
iih four or live children, lying asleep under a tree :
erent way into the field, I untied my arm which was
Med, and turned black. Having observed a number
l the glade as I ran through it I went back to catch
my way found a piece of an old rug, or quilt, hang-
ce, w hich I took with me. Having caught the horse,
th which I had been tied serving for a haher, I rode
iiorse was strong and swift : and the woods being
he country level, about ten o'clock that day I cross-
ta river, at a place, by computation, fifty frill miles
wn. I had rode about twenty miles oti this

222

The Wonders of

Sciota by three o'clock in the afternoon, when the horse
to fail, and could no longer go on a trot. I instantly le
and on foot ran about cwciity miles farther that day, ma
the whole, the distance of near one hundred miles. In t
ning 1 heard hallooing behind me, and for this reason,
halt till about ten o'clock at night, when I sat down, \
tremely sick, and vomited: but when the moon rose,
might have been about two hours after, 1 went on, and
led un il day.

During the night I had a path ; but in the morning I (
it prudent to forsake the path, and take a ridge, for t
tance of fifteen miles, in a line at right angles to my c
putting back as I went along, with a stick, the weeds ^
had bended, lest I should be tracked by the enemy. 1 1
next night on the waters of the Muskingum. The nett
been troublesome to me after my crossing the Sciota,
nothing to defend myself, but the piece of a rug whicl
found, and which, while I rode, I used under me by wi
saddle. The briars and thorns were now painful too, a
vented ine from travelling in the night, until the moon f
ed: in the mean time, I was hindered from sleeping,
rausketoes ; for even in the day I was under the neces
travelling with a handful of bushes to brush them fit
body.

The second night 1 reached Cushakim. Next day c
Newcomer'9 Town, where I got about seven raspberries,
were the first thing I alt from the morning in which the
had taken me to burn, until this time, which was now
three o'clock the fourth day. I felt hungry very little, 1:
extreme'y weak : 1 swum Muskingum river at the Old C
Town, the river being about two hundred yards wide. 1
reached the bank, I sat down, looked back ; and though
a start of the Indians, should any pursue. That eve
travelled about five miles ; next day came to Stillwater,
river, in a branch'of which I got two small cray fish to
Next night I lay within five miles of Wheeling : but I
slept a wink during the whole time, it being rendered
sible by the musketocs, which it was my constant e
ment to brush away. Next day I came to Wheeling, a
a man on the island in the Ohio, opposite to that post, ai
ing to him, and askincr for partieuhr persons who had b
the expedition, and teilin h\*v, 1 was Slover, at length, wit
difficulty, he was persuaded to come over, and bring me
in his canoe.

Mature and Providence.

223

AN AWFUL FULFILMENT OF AN AWFUL PRO-

PHECY k

h the year 1788, M. Cazotte, a French gentleman, being in com-
pany with some of the nobility of France, made thefollounng
remarks by way of Prophecy, It was anticipated, by that de-
luded part of the people, viz. the adherents of Voltaire's licm-
tious doctrines, that when they should prevail over the heavenly
and chaste doctrines of the gospel, they should be a happy people.

[Related by De la Harpe.]

[Meth. Mag. — Eng.]

"It appears to me as if it were but yesterday : and it was,
nwertheless, in the beginning of the year 1788 ; we were at
4e table of a brother Academician, who was of the highest
fffkanda man of talents. The company was numerous and
jfaD kinds ; courtiers, advocates, literary men, academicians,
M; We had been, as usual, luxuriously entertained : and at
Wdesert, the wines of Malvoisie and the Cape, added to the
mil gaiety of good company that kind of social freedom
Vmi sometimes stretches beyond the rigid decorum of it. In
fert, we were in a state to allow of any thing that would pro-
dice mirth. Chamfort had been reading some of his impious
ttd libertine tales, and the fine ladies had heard tfiem, without
once making use of their fans. A deluge of pleasantries on re-
Sgion then succeeded ; one gave a quotation from the Pucelle
^Orleans; another recollected and applauded the philosophical
fcich of Diderot,

Et des Boyaux du dernier Pretre,
Serrez le Cou du dernier Roi.

And of the last Priest's entrails form the string
Around the neck of the last King.

A third rises, and with a bumper in his hand, xt Yes, gentle-
men," (be exclaims) "I am as sure that there is no God, as I
certain that Homer is a fool," The conversation afterwards
took a more serious turn, and the most ardent admiration was
^pressed of the revolution which Vol. aire had produced ; and
they all agreed that it formed the brightest ray of his glory.
"He has given the ton to his age, and has contrived to be read
* the chamber, as well as in the drawing room." One of the
^lopany mentioned, and almost burst with laughter at the cir-

224

Tiie Wonders of

curastance, that his hair-dresser had said, while he was pow-
dering him, "Look you, sir, though I am nothing but a
poor journeyman barber, I have no more religion thau another
man." It was concluded that the revolution would soon be
consummated and that it was absolutely necessary for super-
stition and fanaticism to give place to philosophy. The proba-
bility of this epoch was then calculated, and which of the com-
pany present would live to see the reign of Reason. The
elder part of them lamented that they could not flatter then-
selves with the hope of enjoying suck a pleasure : while the
younger part rejoiced in the expectation that they should
witness it. The Academy was felicitated for having prepared
the grand work, and being at the same time, the strong hold, the
centre and the moving principle of Freedom of Thought.

" There was only one of the guests who had not shared it
the delightk of this conversation ; he had even ventured, in a
quiet way, to start a few pleasantries on our noble enthusiaia.
It was Cazotte, an amiable man, of an original turn of miad,
but unfortunately infatuated with the reveries of the Illuroinilfe
He renewed the conversation in a very serious tone, and m tjijj
following manner : " Gentlemen," said he, " be satisfied, jftal
will all see this grand and sublime revolution. You know tint
I am something of a Prophet, and I repeat that you will aD Me
it." He was answered by the common expression, " It is not
necessary to be a great conjurer to forlel that." — " Agreed;
but, perhaps, it may be necessary to be something more, re-
specting what I am now going to tell you. Have you any idea
of what will result from this revolution ? What will happen to
yourselves, to every one now present ; what will be the imme-
diate progress of it, with its certain effects and consequences?"
" Oh," said Condorcet, with his silly and saturnine laugh,
" let us know all about it ; a philosopher can have no objection
to meet a prophet." — " You M. Condorcet, will expire on the
pavement of a dungeon ; you will die of the poison which yoa
will have taken to escape from the hands of the executioner: ol
poison, which the happy state of that period will render it ab-
solutely necessary that you should carry about you."

At first there appeared a considerable degree of astonish*
ment ; but it was soon recollected that Cazotte was in the habS
of dreaming while be was awake, and the laugh was as loud 8
ever. M. Cazotte, the tale which yon have just told is iK>
so pleasant as your Diable amoreux. But what devil has pu
this dungeon, this poison, and these hangmen in your head
What can these things have in common with philosophy an*
the Reign of Reason ?" " That is precisely what I am tellinf
you. It will be in the name of philosophy, of humanity, an<

mYatuw and Providence.

terty ; it will be under the reign of Reason, that what I
foretold will happen to you. It will then, indeed, be the
of Reason : for she will have temples erected to her hon-
Nay, throughout France, there will be no other places
blic worship than the temples of reason." " In faith,"
?kamfort, with one of his sarcastic smiles, " You will not
I officiating priest in any of these temples." " I hope
at you, M. Chamfort, you will be well worthy of that dis-
m : for you will cut yourself across the veins with twenty-
jrokes of a razor, and will, nevertheless, survive the at*
for some months." — They all looked at him and cou-
I to laugh. — " You, 3VI. Vicq d'Azyr, you will not opcta
reins yourself but you will order them to be opened six
in one diy, during a paroxysm of the gout, in order that
lay not fail in your purpose, and you will die during the

As for you, M. de Nicoli. you will die on the scaffold ;
) M. Bailly, will you ; and so will you M. Malesherbes."
heavens," said Roucher, " it appears that his vengeance
lied solely against the Academy : he has just made a
borrible execution of the whole of it ; now tell me my
n the name of mercy !" — " You will die also upon the
Id.1' " Oh," it was universally exclaimed, u he has
to exterminate us all." "No, it is not I who have sworn

Are we then to be subjugated by Turks and Tartars ?"
30 means; I have already told you, that you will then be
led by Reason and Philosophy alone. Those wftdt%iU , .
ou as I have described, will all of them be philosoph^j£&
>e continually uttering the same phrases that you haver1|
repeating for the last hour, will deliver all your maxims," *
ill quote, as you have done, Diderot and Pucelle."—
n it was whispered, " the man is out of his senses ;" for
f the whole of the conversation, his countenance never un-
til the least change. " Oh no," said another, " you rauat
ve he is laughing at us ; for he always blends the mar-
s with his pleasantries." " Yes," answered Chamfort,
narvellous, with him, is never enlivened with gaiety. He
s looks as if he were going to be hanged. But when will
s happen ? " Six yeara.will not have passed away, before
ich I have told you shall be accomplished."
(ere, indeed, is plenty of miracles," (it was myself, says
la Harpe, who now spnke,) <k and you set me down for
ig." u You will yourself be a miracle as extraordinary
/which I have told. You will then be a christiarf."
ad exclamation* immediately followed. " Ah," replied
fort. " all mv fcars are removed : for if we are not doom-
20

J

2*6

TJke Wonders pjf

ed to perish till La Harpe becomes a Christian, we shall h
immortal."

" As for ns women." said the duchess de Grammont, " it t
very fortunate that we are considered as nothing in these mo
lutions. Not that we, are totally discharged from all concern n
them ; but it is understood that in such cases we are to be Id
to ourselves — Our sex." — " Your sex, ladies, will be no gnu
antee to you in these times. It will make no difference wbil
ever, whether you interfere or not. You will be treated pn
cisely as the men; no distinction will be made between yoi.
" But what does all this mean, M. Cafzotte ? You are said
preaching to us about the end of the world." " I know no mn
of that, my lady duchess, than yourself : but this I know, du
you will be conducted to the scaffold, with several other lmdk
along with you in the cart of the executioner, and with yd
hands tied behind you." " I hope, Sir, that in such a caie,
shall be allowed, at least, a coach hung with black." No,*
dam, you will not have that indulgence : ladies of higher no
than you, will be drawn in a cart as you will be ; with the
hands tied as yours will be, and to the same fate as that to wMc
you are destined." " Ladies of higher rank than myself ?-
What, princesses of the blood ?" " Greater still."

Here there was a very sensible emotion throughout the coo
pany, and the countenance of the master of the mansion wore
vggfcgrave and solemn aspect : it was, indeed, very general!
jBflV^d) that this pleasantry was carried rather loo far. Mi
Bute de Grammont, in order to disperse the cloud that seen*
Ho be approaching, made no reply to bis last answer, but coi
tented herself with saying, with an air of gaiety, " You see, t
will not even leave me a confessor." " No, madam, that cm
solution will be denied to all of you. The last person led I
the scaffold who will be allowed a confessor, as the greatest i
favours, will be ." Here he paused for a momeo

" And who then is the happy mortal who will be allowed to a
joy this prerogative ?" 11 It is the only one which will be 1c
■him ; it will be the king of France."

The master of the house now rose iu haste, and his compai
were all actuated by the same impulse. He then advanced ti
wards M. Cazotte, and said to him, in an affecting and imprc
sive tone, " My dear M. Cazotte, we have had enough of the
melancholy conceits. You carry it too far ; even to the coi
promising the company with whom you are, and yourself aloi
with them." Cazotte made no answer, and was preparing
retire ; when Madame de Grammont, who wished, if possib
to, do away all serious impressions, and to restore some kind
gaiety amongst them, advanced towards him% and said, " ]

Nature ajid Prtcidtna:.

22:

good prophet, you have been so kind as to tell us all our for-
tunes, but you have not mentioned any thing respecting your
ram." After a few moments silence, with his eyes fixed 011 the
pound, " Madam," he replied, " have you read the siege of
ferasalem as related by Josephus ?" " To be sure 1 have, and
ifo has not ? But you may suppose, if you please, that I
now nothing about it." "Then you must know, Madam,
ktf during the siege of Jerusalem, a man, for seven successive
kji, went round the ramparts of that city, in the sight of the
miegers and besieged, crying incessantly, in a loud and in-
■Jpkious voice,— • Woe to Jerusalem !' and on the seventh
fay be cried, 1 Woe to Jerusalem, and to myself !' At that very
loowot, an enormous stone thrown by the machines of the en-
lay, dashed him in pieces.9'

M. Caiotte then made his bow and retired.

Thus far M. de la Harpe : those who recollect the melan-
Ujr exit of all the characters above mentioned, during the
dgn of Terror in France, must be astonished at the exact ful-
tient of this remarkable prediction, so unlikely to be accom-
Jnhed at the time it was uttered. That M. de la Harpe was
apable of imposing falsehood on the world, in the last mo-
neots of bis life, will, I believe, be suspected by few, and I have
ever heard the authenticity of the Note called in question.

THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD.

fa ttccount of the wonderful deliverance of a sailor from the jaws
of a tyger and an alligator in the river Congo,

[Eng. Meth, Mag.]

Some time after my arrival at the British factory, Cape Cas-
1, on board the Davenport Guineaman, I was sent for by the
tttmodore, who was stationed in the Diana frigate to protect
be trade of the place before mentioned, and appointed by him

0 coypmand a sloop, employed on the service of conveying
hves, teeth, gums, and other merchandize, from the company's
ictories, situated several hundred miles up the river Congo,
own to the principal depot at the Cape. The sloop carried

1 iwiveh, and was manned with nine negroes, and two north
wntrymen, named Johnson and Campbell, the former of whom '
is my mate.

After receiving orders relative to the duty in which I was
iployed, we proceeded on our voyage, and had navigated*

7Vi£ /Wrw uj

near fifty leagues up the country, when one morniug the brei
died away suddenly, and we were compelled by a strong c
cent running against us, to drop anchor within a quarter o>
mile of the shore. In this situation the slcop remained for th:
days, during which time, the circumstances fell out I am abi
to communicate ; circumstances so improbable in themselv
8p marvellous, as almost to border on impossibility, but new
theless, declared by me, as a spectator, to be the most perfi
reality.

To resume my narrative : — the bosom of the deep appear*
3s it does in those parts while the calm prevails, extremely tra
qui], and the heat, which was intolerable, had made us so.h
guid, that almost a general wish overcame us, on the approai
of the evening, to bathe in the waters of Congo : however, to
self and Johnson were deterred from it, from the apprehensii
of sharks, many of which we had observed in the progress
our voyage, and those enormously large. At length Camph
alone, who had been making too free with his liquor case, w
obstinately bent on going overboard ; and although we us
every mean in onr power to persuade him to the contrary, .
dashed into the watery element, and had swam some distan
from the vessel, when we, on the deck, discovered an alligat
making towards him from behind a rock that stood a short di
tance from the shore. His escape I now considered impossib!
his destruction inevitable, and I applied to Johnson how*
thould act, who, like myself, affirmed the impossibility to str
him, and instantly seized a loaded carbine to shoot the pa
fellow, before he fell into the jaws of the monster. I did m
however, consent to this, but waited with horror the tragw
we anticipated ; yet willing to do all in my power, I order
the boat to be hoisted, and we fired two shot at the approachii
alligator, but without efTect, for they glided over his scaly cove
ing like hail-stones on a tiled penthouse, and the progress of t
creature was by no means impeded. The report of the piec
and the noise of the blocks in the sloop, made Campbell a
quainted with his danger, he saw the creature making for W1
and with all the strength and skill he was master of, made
the shore. And now the moment arrived, in which a scene *
exhibited beyond the power of my humble pen perfectly to d
scribe. On approaching within a very short distance of sof
canes and shrubs that covered the bank, while closely pursu
by the alligator, a fierce and furious tyger sprang towards bii
at the instant the jaws of his first enemy were extended to d
vour him. At this awful moment Campbell was preserved.-
The eager tyger, by overleaping him, encountered the gripe
(he amphibious monster. A conflict ensued between them-

Nature and iVut'tt/e/io;.

the water was covered with the blood of the tyger, whose ef-
forts to tear the scaly covering of the alligator were unavailing ;
while the latter had also the advantage of keeping his adversary
ttder water, by which the victory was presently obtained, for
the tyger's death' was now effected. They both sank to the
bottom, and we saw no more of the alligator. Campbell was
recovered, and instantly conveyed on board ; he spoke not while
in the boat, though his danger had perfectly sobered him, and
what is more singular, from that moment to the time I am writ-
ing, he has never been seen the least intoxicated, nor has he
been heard to utter a single oath. If ever there was a perfectly
reformed being in the universe, Campbell is the man.n

WONDERFUL VISIONS.
On the manifestation of the Son of God before his invnrnafion.
[By the Rev. John Fletcher.]

Whin I told you, that, in all ages, Jehovah Jesus, manifests
fcinndf in a peculiar manner to his people, you exclaimed against
assertion as altogether new and unscriptural. It lies upon
therefore to prove, that antiquity and scripture are on my
fide, I shall in this letter appeal to the manifestations recorded
in the Old Testament. You cannot expect all the revelations
of any child of God, much less those of every one, to be mention-
ed in so short a history as fhat of the Bible. Nevertheless
enough is said on the point to convince us, that in every ago
°f the church, God hath favoured the children of men with pe-
culiar displays of his preseuce.

Did not the Lord familiarly converse with Adam before ihc.
fall, both when he presented him with a partner, and when he
toonght every beast of the field before him, to see what he would
call them? Did he not visit him after the fall, to pronounce his
sentence, and to promise that he would become the woman's.
*&d, and bruise the serpent's head ? Was not this manifestation
granted to Abel, wheif the Lord had respect to his sacrifice; the
very cause of Cain's envy, wrath and murder ? Did not Enoch's
talking with God, imply a constant union and communion with
Emmanuel ? And how could this union have taken place, if the
Lord had not first revealed himself to the Patriarch ? Must not
t*o persons meet and agree, before they can walk and converse
together?

230

The Wonders of

Noah found grace in the eyes of the Lord, and, in consequeo
of it, was made acquainted with his righteous designs, and recei
ed directions how to escape from a perishing world. The histc
of Abraham is full of such manifestations. In one of them, 1
Lord called him out of his sins, and from his kindred, to go tx
to the heavenly and earthly Canaan. In others he promised h
Isaac, and Isaac's mysterious seed. Several years after for 1
trial of his faith, he commanded him to sacrifice that favoui
son ; and when the trial was over, he testified his approbati
of Abraham's conduct. Read Gen. xviii. and you will a
how the divine philanthropy, or the love of God towards no
appeared, in condescending to clothe himself, before hand, w
the nature he was to assume in the virgin's womb, and to cc
verse in this undress with the father of the faithful, as a prir
with his favourite, or a friend with his confident.

Sarah and Agar, Isaac and Rebekah, had their divine maniii
tations : but those of Jacob deserve our particular attentic
When he fled to Syria from the face of his brother Esau, ai
lay desolate in a field, having only a heap of stones for his p
low, the God of all consolation, appeared to him : " and behc
the Lord stood above the mysterious ladder, on which the a
gels of God ascended and descended, and said, I am the Lon
Behold, I am with thee, and will keep thee in all places, wbith
thou goest. And Jacob called that place Bethel, the haute
God, and the Gate of Heaven." As if he wanted to intimai
that no one ever found the gate of Heaven, butbyamanifestatii
of Christ, who is alone the way to the Father, and the door i
to glory. When the same patriarch returned to Canaan, ai
was left alone one night, there wrestled a man with him till t
breaking of the day. And when this extraordinary person sai
" let me go, for the day breaketh, he replied, I will not let th
go, unless thou bless me ;" and he blessed him there, ackno'
ledging that he had power with man and God, even with hi
whose name is Emmanuel, God with us." " And Jacob call
the name of the place Penieh (the face of Gody) for he said I ha
seen God, face to face, and my life is preserved." The desij
of this manifestation was merely to strengthen his faith, and \
learn from it,' that the children of faithful Abraham wrestle
prayer with the God-man, as Jacob did, till they prevail and a
blessed as he was.

Moses was favoured with numberless manifestations, som
tiipes as prime minister of the King of the Jews, and at otfa
times only as a common believer. " There appeared to hii
in the wilderness of Mount Sinai, the angel of the Lord in
flame of fire in a bush ; and when Moses saw it, he drew nea
and the voice of the Lord came unto him saying, I am the Go

jY&ttftc mi Providence.

of tliy fathers, &tc. " Many partook of a sight equally glorious :
" Moses, Aaron, Nabad, and Abihu, and seventy of the elders
of Israel went up and saw the God of Israel, and there was
under his feet as it were a paved work of sapphire stone, and as
it were of the body of heaven in his clearness ; and upon the
nobles of the children of Israel he laid not his hand : also they
saw God, and did eat and drink.'9 "Behold," said Moses
upon the occasion, "the Lord our God hath shewed us his
glory, and we have heard his voice out of the rcidst of the fire,
and we have seen this day, that God doth talk with man, and
he lived." All Israel shared sometimes in the glorious mani-
festation. They all drank of that spiritual rock that followed
Ifaem, says St. Paul, and that rock was Christ. The cloud
of the Lord was upon the tabernacle by day, says the Jewish
historian, and fire was upon it by night, in the sight of all
the house of Israel. " It came to pass as Moses entered into
the tabernacle, the cloudy pillar descended, and stood at the
door of the tabernacle, and the Lord talked with Moses, and
»H the people saw the cloudy pillar, and rose up and wor-
Aipped every man in the door of his tent. And the Lord spake
*° Moses face to face, as a man speaketh to his friend.9' So in-
dulgent was Emmanuel to him, that when he said, " I beseech
thee, shew me thy glory ; the Lord answered, I will make all
Bty goodness pass before thee ; but thou canst not see my face
(without some veil) and live. And (Oh astonishing condescen-
sion !) the Lord descended in the cloud, and stood with him,
proclaimed the name of the Lord." Jehovah Jesus, passed
hffore him, and proclaimed Jehovah, Jehovah, i. e. revealed to
"\tn the father and the Holy Ghost, one merciful God together
w>th himself. And Moses made haste, bowed his head towards
the earth and worshipped. The displays of divine goodness and
RWy, left a divine impression on the countenance of the man of
^*od • his face shone so transcendantly glorious, that the chil-
dren of Israel were afraid to come nigh him ; and he was obli-
to put a veil upon it before he could converse with them.
Though this appears very extraordinary, the Apostles inform
lls» that what happened to the countenance of Moses, happens to
'he souls of all believers. By faith they behold the Lord
through the glass of gospel promises, and beholding him they
made partakers of the divine nature ; — they are changed
^to the same image, from glory to glory.

Joshua, Moses9 successor, was blessed with many such mani-
festations, each of which conveyed to him new degrees of cour-
*geand wisdom. To instance in one only : " When he was by
Jericho, he lift up his eyes and looked, and behold, there stood
H man against him, with his sword drawn in his hand. And

Joshua went to him, and said, " Art thou tor us, or lor our
versaries ? And he said, nay, Art thou for us, or for our
versaries ? And he said, nay, but as captain of the Lord's t
am I come. And Joshua (sensible it was Jehovah) fell on
face to the earth, worshipped, and said to him, What says
Lord to his servant ? And the captain of the Lord's host s
to Joshua, loose thy shoe from off thy foot, for the place win
on thou standest is holy ground ; and Joshua did so." Ev
true discovery of Christ hath a similar effect. It humbles
dinner, and makes him worship in the dust. He sees holmes
the Lord written upon every surrounding object ; he is loo
from earthly things, and the towering walls of sin fall bei
hira, as those of Jericho, soon after this manifestation, did bef
Joshua.

When that chief was dead, the same heavenly person c
led the angel of the Lord, came from Gilgal to Bochim 3
spake such words to all the children of Israel, that the peo
were universally melted; they lift up their voice, wept s
sacrificed. Nothing can so effectually make sinners relent
a sight of him whom they had pierced. When they have
whatever place they arc in becomes a Bochim, a valley, of te
and adoration.

Not long after the Lord manifested himself to Deborah, s
by the wisdom and fortitude communicated to her in that re
lation, she was enabled to judge Israel, and lead desponding I
rak to certain victory through 900 chariots of iron.

The condescension of our Emmanuel appears in a still m<
striking light, in the manifestation, which he vouchsafed to G
eon. The mysterious " Angel of the Lord, (again and agi
railed Jehovah) came and sat under an oak in Ophrah, appe
ed to Gideon and said, The Lord is with thee, and thou sh
smite the Midianites as one man. And the Lord looked up
him, (with what a courage inspiring look was this, as powerful
doubt, as that which met the cursing Peter's eyes, and dart
repentance to his heart!) and he said, Go in this thy migl
have not I sent thee? And Gideon said, Alas! O Lord God, I
because I have seen the angel of the Lord face to face. A
the Lord said unto him, Peace be unto thee, fear not, thou sh
not die." Thus strengthened and comforted, he built an al
to Jehovah-Shalom, and threw down the altar of Baal. Hec
we learn, that, when Jesus manifests himself to a sinner, he fi
him with a noble contempt of Baal, an effectual resolution
break down his altars, and a divine courage to shake off t
yoke of the spiritual Midianites. He imparts to him a comfo:
able assurance, that Jehovah-Shalom, the God of peace, ev
Christ 0'ir iwirr. is with dini: awl tlip finnw. constrained 1

Nature and Providuict.

die love of Christ, gives him his believing heart, and offers sa-
crilces of thanksgiving on that best of altars. Here begins
mch a free intercourse between the Redeemer and the redeemed,
as we find began between the Lord and Gideon, only of a far
more spiritual and delightful nature.

Some years after, the same angel of God appeared to Manoah's
wife and promised her a son. Her husband prayed for the same
manifestation. God hearkened to his voice. The heavenly
persouage manifested himself a second time, Manoah asked him
his name, and the " Angel said unto him, Why askest thou after
my name, seeing it is secret I am not yet called Jesus. Ma-
noah offered a burnt offering, the angel received it at his hands;
and, while he ascended in the dame of the altar, Manoah fell on
his fare to the ground, knew that he was the angel Jehovah, and
\ to his wife, we shall surely die, because we have seen God.
She comforted him under his fears , and the birth of Sampson,
Mead of their diath, was the consequence of this two fold man-
ifestation.

There was a time when Samuel did not know the Lord ;
wither was the word of the Lord, that Word, which was after-
wards made flesh, yet revealed unto him. The devoted youth
worshipped in the dark, till "the Lord appeared again in Shi-
lob,

came, stood, and called Samuel, Samuel ; for the Lord re-
eled himself to him there, by the Word of the Lord." From
<hat memorable time, " the Lord was w th him, and did let
Done of his words fall to the ground." The intercourse between
God and his prophet soon grew to so great a degree, that the sa-
Q^d historian says, " the Lord told him in his ear," what he
wanted him to be informed of.
David had many manifestations of Christ, and of his pardon-
love; and, far from supposing this blessing peculiar to him-
*lf as a prophet, he declares, that " for this every one, that is
godly shall pray to God, when he may be found." He knew
Ms Shepherd's inward voice so well, that, without it, no out-
ward message, though ever so comfortable, could restore peace
to his troubled mind. When he had been convinced of the
tiroes of adultery and murder, by the close application of
Nathan's parable, the prophet assured him, that he should not
[i. e. the Lord graciously afforded him a reprieve; giving
Mm time for the exercise of repentance and faith.] This re-
port would have contented many of our modern penitents; but
nothing short of an immediate manifestation of the forgiving
God, could comfort the humble mourner. "Wash thou me,
»ys he, and I shall be clean ;" speak thyself merciful, Lord,
1 "make me hear of joy and gladness, that the bones, which thou
* tast broken mav rejoice/'

^0

234

Vie Wnxdtr* of

Exceeding remarkable was the revelation his son Solom
was favoured with. "In Gibeoa, where he was gone to wm
fice, the Lord appeared unto him, in a dream by night, and G
said, Ask what I shall give thee." Conscious of his great
want, " he asked an understanding heart." The speech pleai
the Lord, and God said, Because thou has asked this thing
have done according to thy word; lo, I have given it thee; a
that also which thou hast not asked, both riches and honoiu
Though this promise was made to him in a dream, he knew
the change, which he found in himself, when he awaked, a
by the powerful evidence, which accompanies divine manif
tations, that it was a glorious reality. Fully persuaded of
he scrupled not to offer peace-offerings, and make a feast to
servants on the occasion. Nor was this the only time Solom
was thus favoured. When he had built the temple, and pray
for a blessing upon it, " the Lord appeared to him in Gib*
and said, I have heard thy. prayer.

Elijah is so famous for the power he had to obtain divi
manifestations by the prayer of faith, that, St. James, w
had seen him on the mount with Christ and Moses, pi
poses him to the church for a pattern of successful wrestli
with God. And who is the Lord God of Elijah, but tl
God that manifests himself to his worshippers, in opposite
to Baal and other false Gods, from whom neither visits a
answers can be obtained ? The Lord answered him by fire
the foot of mount Carmel, and by showers on the top ; ai
" when he lodged in mount Horeb in a cave, behold, tl
Word of the Lord, (Jehovah Jesus,) came to him and sai
What doest thou here, Elijah ? Go forth, stand upon t
mount before the Lord. And behold, the Lord passed by
and in his still, small voice, comforted, supported, and direct
him.

Micaiah, another man of God, " saw the Lord sitting
his throne, and all the host of heaven standing by him, on
right hand and on his left." Elisha was not only blessed w
frequent manifestations of the Lord and his power, but
his heavenly retinue also. He saw in an hour of danj
11 the mountain full of horses and chariots of fire,9' ready
protect him ; and at his request, the Lord condescended to of
his servant's eyes, that his drooping spirits might revive at 1
sight.

Eliphaz, one of Job's friends, related to him, that " in thong
from visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth on men, fi
and trembling came upon him. Then a Spirit passed beft
his face, it stood still, but he could not discern, i. e. clean
distinguish, the form thereof. An image was before his fav

Nature and Providence.

235

mod be heard a voice saying, Shall mortal man be more pure
than God ?" As for Job when he had long contended with his
friends, the Lordauswered him out of the whirlwind, and mani-
fested himself in a manner, to which the good man was before
a stranger. I have" heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear,
but now mine eye seeth thee ; wherefore, I abhor myself, and
repent in dust and ashes." Hence we learn, that nothing but
a discovery of the Lord can silence vain reasonings and unbe-
lieving fears : this alone makes us to lie in deep prostration at
oar Maker's feet.

St. John informs us, that Isaiah saw Christ's glory, and spake
of him, when be described the glorious manifestation, in which
k received a new seal of pardoning and sanctifying love. " I
uar the Lord, says he, sitting upon his throne, high and lifted
sp; his train filled the temple. The Seraphim covering their
frees with their wings, cried one to another, Holy, Holy, Holy,
k the Lord of Hosts. Then said I, wo is me, for I am undone,
fec«uise I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst
°f the people of unclean lips ; for mine eyes halli 5.ecn the
Btig, the Lord of hosts. Then flew one of the Seraphim, and
teaching me with a live coal from off the altar, he said, Thine
"M^luty is taken away and thy sin purged. Many never witness
forgiveness of their sins, till they see, l>v faith, the Lord of
and are melted into repentance, and inflamed with love
at the glorious sight. Isaiah not only beheld Christ's glory, but
w*s blessed with the clearest views of his sufferings. He saw
hitti as " a man of sorrows, and acquainted wit i griefs ; and asked
hiiHj " why he was red in his apparel, and his garments like him
tk^t treadeth the wiue fat ?" These revelations were not only
^Wulated for the good of the church, but also for the establish-
ment of the prophet's faith.

I shall not mention those of Ezekiel ; they are so numerous,
th^t a particular account of them would alone fill a letter. I re-
fer you to the book itself. Jeremiah, speaking of God's peo-
ple, says in express terms, the Lord hath appeared of old unto
ni^> saying, " Yea, 1 have loved thee with an everlasting love ;
d^refore with loving kindness have I drawn thee." Daniel en-
joyed the same favour. " He saw the Ancient of days, and one
the Son of Man, coming with the clouds of heaven.'* We
naturally suppose, that Daniel's three companions, Sha-
d*^ch, Mcshach, and Abed-nego, were sensible of their heavenly
^liverer's presence. They were more concerned in the disco-
very thau Nebuchadnezzar, who cried out, " Lo, 1 see four men
^*Ose, walking in the midst of the fire, and the form of the fourth
* like the Son of God."

It would be absurd to suppose, that the lesser prophets and

23%

Tlie Wonders of

other men of God, to whom the word of the Lord came, had 130
discovery of the Lord himself, the essential Word. If some dis-
play of his presence had not attended their every revelation,
night they not have said, thus says my warm imagination — thus
says my enthusiastic brain, as well as, thus says the Lord ?

From the variety and authenticity of these manifestations left
upon sacred record, I conclude, that the doctrine I maintain, far
from being new and unscriptural, is supported by the experien-
ces of God's children for 3,600 years, viz. from the creation of
the world till the close of the Old Testament.

With respect to what is extraordinary, as to the design and
barely external, as to the circumstances of some of these mani-
festations, I refer you to the distinctions I made on that subject
in my second letter. Should you object that the contents of this
prove only, that God favoured the Patriarchs and Jews with im-
mediate revelations of himself, because they had neither the gos-
pel nor the scriptures : I answer.

1. The gospel was preached to them, as well as to us. The
Patriarchs had tradition, which answered the end of the scrip-
tures in their day.* The Jews, in the time of the Judges, bad
not only tradition, but a considerable part of the scriptures, even
all the writings of Moses. Under the kings, they had the
Psalms, Job, Ecclesiastes, the Proverbs, and a thousand and
five Songs of Solomon. They had also the book of Nathan
the prophet, the prophecy of Ahija1 the Shilonite, and the visions I
of Iddo the seer, which are now lost. These contained the
substance of the Bible.

2. When the Lord answered Saul no more, neither by pro-
phets, nor by dreams, the reason assigned for it by the Holy
Spirit, is, not that the canon of scripture was filled, and the*e
was no more occasions f»r immediate revelations ; but that the
Lord was departed from him. and was become his enemy.

3. David, who had the honour of being a sacred writer hif**~"
self after his relapse into sin, could not be satisfied with tl*^
Psalms he had penned down ; but he mourned, prayed, and w**-"
tered his bed with his tears, inconsolable till the Lord immed*-"
ately revealed his pardoning love, and said to his soul, 1 am tb^
salvation.

4. If, because we have the letter of scripture, we must bed^^
prived of all immediate manifestations of Christ and his Spirit*
we are great losers by that blessed bo< k, and we might reason-"
ably say — " Lord bring us back to the dispensation of Mose£»
Thy Jewish servants could formerly converse with thee face to
face, but now we can know nothing of thee, but by their wri-
tings. They viewed thy glory in various wonderful appearan-
ces, but we are indulged only with black lines telling us of thy

Nature and Providence. Jo*

ry. They had (Lie bright Shekinah, and wc have only ob-
re descriptions of it* They were blessed with lively oracles,
I we only with a dead letter, The ark of thy covenant went
ore them, and struck terror into all their adversaries ; bat a
j of which our enemies make daily sport, is the only reve-
lof thy power among us* They make their boast of Urim
Thummim, and received particular, immediate answers
i between the Cherubim ; but we have only general ones,
ans of Hebrew and Greek writing, which many do not
ita od * They conver sed fa mi I iar ly w i th Moses , thei r med i -
t, with Aaron their high priest, and Samuel their prophet ;
tfe holy men gave them unerring directions in doubtful cases;
t alas I the apostles and inspired men are all dead, and thou
bus our mediator, priest and prophet, canst not be consulted
any purpose, for thou manifest est thyself no more. As for
y sacred book, thou knowest that some times the want -of
)tiey to purchase it, the want of learning to consult the origi-
1, the want of wisdom to understand the translation, the
mt of skill or sight to read it, prevent our improving it to
a best advantage, and keep some from reaping any benefit
Hn it at all. O Lord, if, because we have this blessed picture
thee, we must have no discovery of the glorious original,
ve compassion on us, take back the precious book, and tra-
it thy more precious self to us, as thou didst to thy ancient

5, St. Paul declares, that though the Mosaic dispensation
is glorious, that of Christ exceeds it in glory. But if Christ
sealed himself immediately to the Jews, and to christians only
sdiately, by the letter of a hook, it is plain,, the apostle was
staken ; for no one can deny, it is far more glorious to see
e light of God's countenance and hear his voijp, than merely
read something about them in a book.

6. That particular manifestations of Christ, far from ceasing
th the Jewish, have increased in brightness and spirituality
ider the christian dispensation, I shall endeavour to prove in
(rnext. . <k

According to my promise, I siiall now prove, that the New-
!*»ment abounds, as well as the Old, with accounts of par-
alar revelations of the Son of God. •

Before his birth, he manifested himself to the blessed vir-
d, by the overshadowing power of the Holy Gho*t. She
priced in God her Saviour, and glorified more, in having
m revealed as God in her soul, than in finding him conceived
man in her womb. Soon after Joseph, her husband, was as-'
fed in a heavenly dream, that the child she bore was Em-
anuel, God with us. He revealed himself next to Ehwibetb.

23*

The Wanders of

When she heard the salutation of Mary, she was filled with
Holy Spirit* and made sensible, that the virgin was the modi
of her Lord. So powerful was this manifestation, that k
unborn son was affected by it. The babe leaped in her won
for joy, and was filled with the Holy Spirit even from his oh
ther's womb.

So important is a particular knowledge of Jesus, that an angf
directed the shepherds, and a miraculous star the wise men, I
the place where he was born : and there the Holy Spirit so n
vealed him to their hearts, that they hesitated net to worship th
seemingly despicable infant, as the majestic God, whom tk
heaven of heavens cannot contain. !

Simeon, who waited for the consolation of Israel, had itn
vealed to him by the Hdly Spirit, that he should not see dead
before he had seen the Lord's Christ. The promise was fid
filled ; and while his bodily eyes discovered nothing but a poc
infant, presented without pomp in the temple, his spirits
eyes perceived him to be the light of Israel, and the salratio
of God. Nor was this extraordinary favour granted only!
Simeon, for it is written, all flesh shall see the salvation <
God ; and St. Luke informs us, that Anna partook of tk
sight with the old Israelite, gave thanks to her new bat
Lord, and spake of him to all that waited for redemption ta it
rusalem.

When he entered upon his ministry, he 6rst manifested bin
self to his forerunner. " I knew him not, personally, mi
John ; " but he that sent me to baptize with water, said ant
rite, Upon whom thou shalt see the Spirit descending, and n
maining on him, the same is he, who baptizes with the Hoi
Ghost. And I saw, and bare record, that this is the Son <
God, the Lamb, that taketh away the sins of the world."

Jesus had manifested himself spiritually to Nathaniel und
the fig-tree ; and the honest Israelite, being reminded of tb
divine favour, confessed the author of it : Rabbi, said he, the
art the Son of God, thou art the King of Israel. Our Loi
pleased with this ready confession, promised that he should p
greater things, enjoy brighter manifestations, than these ; tb
he should even see heaven open, and the angels of God ascea
ing and descending apon the Son of man.

The bare outward sight of our Saviour's person and miracl
rather confounded than converted the beholders. What gkM
ous beams of bis Godhead pierced through the veil of his me
appearances, when, with supreme authority, he turned the bn
ers and sellen out of the temple : When he entered Jerusak
in triumph, and all the city was moved, saying, Who is thi
And when- he said to those, who apprehended htm, I am H

Nature and Providence.

239

and they went backward, and fell to the ground ! Neverthe-
less, we do not find, that one person was blessed with the saving
knowledge of him, on any of these solemn occasions. The
people of Galilee saw most of him, and yet believed least in
bin. " What wisdom is this, which is given to this man, said
they, that such mighty works are wrought by his hands ? Is
dot this the carpenter, the son of Mary ? and they were offend-
ed at him." Some went even so far as to ascribe his miracles to
a diabolical power, affirming, that he cast out devils by Beel-
tcbub the prince of the devils. Hence it appears, that if he had
aotia some degree, revealed himself to the hearts of his disci-
ples, when he said to them, follow me, they would never have
forsaken all immediately and followed him. He manifested
forth his glory, says St. John, and his disciples believed on
him: and yet, when the manifestation was chiefly external, how
weak was the effect it produced eren upon them ? How was
ear Lord, after all, obliged to upbraid them with their tm-
iefcf, their little faith, and, on a particular occasion, with their
bnmg no faith 9 If we know, savingly, that Jesus is God
with as — flesh and blood, i. e. mere man with all his best pow-
ers, hath not revealed this to us, but our Father, who is in
heaven. As no man knoweth the Father, save the Son, and he
to whom the Son will reveal him ; so no man knoweth the Son
hat the Father, and he to whom the Spirit proceeding from the
Father does reveal him. For no man savingly cau say, that
Jesus is Jehovah, the Lord, but by the Holy Ghost ; And he,
that hath sent me, by .this divine revelation, says Jesus, hath
fceo the Father also ; far 1 and the Father are one.

Had not our Lord revealed himself in a peculiar manner
to sinners, no one would have suspected him to be God manifest
in the flesh. Till he discovers himself, as he does not unto the
world, he hath no form nor comeliness, and when we see him,
there is no beauty in him, tlm we should desire him ; we hide as
'twere our faces from him ; he is despised, nnd we esteem him
WH. He was oljlicred to say to the woman of Samaria, I that
•peak to thee am He ; and to s; v it with a power that penetrated
her heart, before she could believe with her heart unto righteous-
ness.

If our Lord had not called Zaccheus inwardl y as well as out-
wardly; if he had not made him come down from the pinnacle
°f proud nature, as well as from the sycamore tree ; the rich
Publican would never have received him prladly, nor would the
lord have said, This day is salvation come to thy house, foras-
tooc.h as thou art a son of faithful Abraham*

The blind man, restored to bodily sight, knew not his heaven-
ly benefactor, till a second and greater miracle was wrought

20* The. Wonders of'

upon the eyes of his blind understanding. When Jesus found
him, sometime after he was cured, he Mid to him, " Dost thoa
believe on the Son of God ? He answered, Who is he, Lord,
that 1 might believe on him ?" And Jesus, opening theeyetef
his mind, and manifesting himself to him, as he does, not unto the
world, said " Thou hast both seen him, and t is he that talked*
with thee." Then, and not till then, he could say from the
heart, Lord, I believe, and he worshipped him.

Both the thieves, who were crucified with him, heard Hi
prayers and strong cries ; both saw his patience and his meek-
ness, his wounds, and* his blood. One continued to make ftpmf
of his sufferings, as though he had been a worse malefactor Una'
himself; while the other blessed with an internal revelation of
his godhead, implored his mercy, trusted him with his soul,
and confessed him to be the King of Glory, at the very iuor
ment when he hung tortured and dying as the basest of slaves.

St. Peter speaks so highly of the manifestation, with whklf
he and the two sons of Zebedee were favoured on mount Tabor,
that we ought not to pa ss it over in silence. They saw the king*'
dom of God coining with power; they beheld the King inn'
beauty. " His face did shine like the sun, and his raiment be*'
came white as light; a bright cloud overshadowed him, and'
behold, a voice out of the cloud, which said, " This is my be*
loved Son, in whom I am well pleased ; hear ye him."

Nor did our Lord reveal himself less after his resurrection*
Mary sought him at the grave with tears. As she turned her-
self, she saw him standing, but knew not that it was Jesus. He
said unto her, Why weepest thou ? Whom seekest thou ? She.
supposing him to be the gardener, enquired after the object rf
her love ; until Jesus, calling her by name, manifested hinnef
to her as alive from the dead. Then she cried out Master! and
in her transport, would have taken her old place at his feet.

With equal condescension he appeared to Peter, that he might
not be swallowed up with overmuch sorrow. True mourners
in Sion weep, some for an absent God, as Mary, others for their
sins, as Peter ; and they will not be comforted, no, not by an-
gels ; but only by him, who is nigh to all that call upon him*
and is health to those that are broken in heart. He, thatip^
peared first to weeping Mary, and next to sorrowing Peter, will
shortly visit them with his salvation. He is already with them,
as he was with Mary, though they know it not: and he wiO
soon be in them, the sure and comfortable hope of glory*

This observation is farther confirmed by the experience of
the two disciples, who walked to Emmaus, and were sad. Je-
sus drew near, joined and comforted them. He made their
hearts to burn within them while he talked with them by Ac

tfalurt anil Frvvidtut*

241

I opened to them the scriptures. But still their eyes
i, that they should not know him, before they tore pre-
r the overwhelming favour. And it was not until he sat
with them, that their eyes were opened, and they knew
te breaking of bread. Happy those, who, like them,

i an unknown Jesus by mighty prayers to tarry with
itil the veil is taken away from their hearts, and they
whom they have believed.

ent were the manifestations of Jesus to bis disciples bfe»
ascension. An angel appeared to two of the holy -

ii and said to them, " Fear not ; for I know that ye seek
K> was crucified. He is risen from the dead. As they
fear and great joy to tell his disciples, Jesus met them
IU1 hail ! and they came, held him by the feet, and
cd him." The same day in the evening when the
re shut where the disciples were assembled for fear of the
ne Jesus, and stood in the midst. They were terrified,

his wonted goodness he said, " Peace be unto you !
id them his hands and his feet ; ate with them as he had
old with Abraham ! and, to testify an inward manifest
a the Holy Spirit, which he imparted to them, as his
eatbed upon their minds ! and thus he opened their un-
ings, that they might understand the scriptures.' Out
scension to Thomas he shewed himself to them a second
he like manner; and a third time at the sea of Tiberas;
wards he was seen of above five hundred brethren at

ill perhaps say, Sir, that these manifestations ceased,
irist was ascended into heaven. This is true with re-
tire manifestation of a body of such gross flesh and
s may be touched with material hands. In this sense
. know Christ after the flesh no more. Our Lord, by
e reproof to Thomas, discountenanced our looking for
anifestations of his person, and I have declared again
n, that they ar^ not what I contend for.
hat spiritual manifestations of Christ ceased at his as-
s what I must deny, if I receive the scripture. On
rary they became more frequent. Three thousand
ted to the heart on the day of Pentecost, and felt their
a visit from the heavenly Physician. He then came
in the power of his Spirit, with whom he is one.
received the gift of the Holy Ghost, whose office it is to
the Son. For die promise was unto them and their
; witness the last words of Christ in St. Matthew's
!jo, I am with you always, evrm unto thf* ond of %\w

The fi'ondtrj of

Time would tail me to tell of the five thousand convene
some days after, of Cornelius and his household, Lydia in
her household ; in a word, of all who were truly brought!
Christ in the first age of Christianity. " The Lord opew
their hearts. The Holy Ghost fell upon them ; and tbt
walked iu his comforts. Christ was evidently set forth CM
cified before their spiritual eyes. He dwelt in their heal
by faith : they lived not, but Christ lived in them." Th
agreed in saying, with St. Paul ; If any man have not tl
Spirit of Christ, by whom he is savingly • known, he is no
of his.

Stephen's experience is alone sufficient to decide the pci
When brought before the council, they all saw his face, as it h
been the face of an angel. Being full of the Holy Spirit, i
wrought no miracle, he spake no new tongue ; but looM
steadfastly up into heaven, aud saw the glory of God, and Jes
standing at the right hand of God." This manifestation m
Calculated only for the private encouragement and comfort
the pious deacon. It answered no other end, but to enrage t
Jews and make them account him a greater blasphemer and
wilder enthusiast, than they did before. Accordingly dn
cried aloud, stopped their ears, ran upon him, cast him oat
the city, and stoned him ; while Stephen, under the power!
influence of the manifestation, kneeled down, called upon Go
saying, Lord Jesus receive my spirit, and lay not this sin
their charge. Hence we learn, first, that nothing appears
absurd and wicked to Pharisees and formalists, as the doctri
I maintain. They lose all patience, wheu they hear that Cbr
really manifests himself to his servants. No blasphemy HI
this, in the account of those who are wise, learned, and pr
dent, in their own eyes. Secondly, that the most exalted «ii
need a fresh manifestation of the glory, love and presence
Christ, that they may depart this life in the triumph of faith.

If you object, that Stephen was thus favoured, because
was about to suffer for Christ, and, that it would be great p
sumption to expect the like support, I reply, in the five folk*
ing observations. (1) We are called to suffer for Christ,
well as Stephen, though perhaps not in the same manner u
degree. (3) We often need as much support from Christ,
stand against the children of men, whose teeth are spears ai
arrows, and their tongues a sharp sword ; and to quench t
fiery darts of the devil, as the martyr did to stand a shower
stones. (3) It is perhaps as hard to be racked with the got
or to burn several days in a fever on a sick bed, as you or I mi
be forced to do, as to be for a few minutes with Shadrach ai
his companions in a burning furnace, or to feel for a fleetir

Nature and Providencr.

24*

moment the anguish of bruised flesh and a fractured skull, with
etr trinmphant martyr. No one knows, what pangs of body
tod agonies of soul may accompany him through the valley of
the shadow of death. If our Lord himself was not above being
strengthened by an angel that appeared to him from heaven,
sandy it is no enthusiasm to say, that such feeble creatures as
vjb are, stand in need of a divine manifestation, to enable us to
> tight our last battle manfully, and to come off more than con*
iperors. (4) We betray unbelief, if we suppose, that Christ
cannot do for us what he did for Stephen ; and we betray our
presumption, if we say, we want not the assistance, which this
Wi champion stood in need of. (5) The language of our
dnsch is far different : " Grant,9' says she, in her collect for
tfcatSaint's day, " O Lord, that in all our sufferings here upon
eartk for the testimouy of thy truth, we may steadfastly look
vpio heaven, and, by faith, behold the glory that shall be re-
pealed; and, being filled with the Holy Ghost, may learn to
fane and bless our persecutors, by the example of thy first mar-
tyr, St. Stephen, who prayed for his murderers."

Yon tee, Sir, that I have the suffrage of the church of Eng-
had ; and yours too, if you do not renounce our excellent lit-
vgy, so that, if I am an enthusiast for expecting to be filled
*i&th*Holy Spirit, and by faith to behold the glory that shall
4e revealed,* as well as St. Stephen, I am countenanced by a
■altitude of the best and greatest men in the world.

But suppose you reject the testimony of St. Stephen, and
*f all our clergy (when in the desk) touching the reality and
the necessity too of our Lord's manifesting himself on earth,
Verbis ascension into heaven, receive at least that of St. Luke
•ad St. Paul. They both inform us, that " as Saul of Tarsus
vent to Damascus, the Lord even Jesus, appeared to him in
the my. Suddenly there shone a li^ht from heaven above die
brightness of the sun, so that be fell to the earth, aud herd a
*>tce, saying, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me ? And he
•aid, Who art thou, Lord ? And the Lord said, 1 am Jesus,
whom thou persecutest." So powerful was the effect of this
ftanifestation of Christ, that the sinner was turned into a saint,
*id die fierce, blaspheming persecutor, into a weeping, pray-
ttg apostle.

Methinks I hear you say, True, into an apostle ; hut are
• *e called to be apostles? No, Sir, hut we are called to be
Christians; — to be converted from sin to holiness, and from
*he kingdom of darkness to the kiugdom of God's dear Son.
St Paul's call to the apostleship is nothing to his being made
•child of God. Judas was a Christian by profession, an apos-
ncby call, and a devil by possession. And what is Judas in his

own place to tlie meanest of God's children ?— to poor La
in Abraham's bosom ? Ail who go to heaven, are first t
from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan onto
This turning sometimes begins by a manifestation of CI
witness the authentic account of colonel Gardener's conve
published by his judicious friend Dr. Doddridge ; and the
authentic one of our apostle's conversion recorded three
by St. Luke. And I dare advance upon the authority c
greater than St. Luke, that no one's conversion- ever was
pleted without the revelation of the Son of God to his
41 1 am the way and the door, says Jesus, no man cometh
Father but me." " Look unto me, and be ye saved, i
ends of the earth." Our looking to him for salvation wo
to as little purpose, was he not to manifest himself to us, i
looking towards the east for light, if the sun were not t
upon us.

The revelation of Christ, productive of St. Paul's convc
was not the only one with which the Apostle was favi
44 At Corinth the Lord encouraged and spake to him i
night by a vision. Be not afraid, but speak and hold m
peace ; for I am with thee, and no man shall hurt thee."
another occasion, to wean him more from earth, Christ fs
ed him with the nearest views of heaven. " I knew a n
Christ, says he, whether in the body or out of the body, '.
not tell, who was caught up into the third heaven* and in
radise, and heard words, which it is not possible for a
ntter." Wl«en he had been brought before the Sanhedr
preaching the gospel, St. Luke informs us, that " the
following, the Lord stood by him, and said, be of good
Paul : for as thou hast testified of me in Jerusalem, sn
thou bear witness also at Rome." The ship in which h
ed; being endangered by a storm, There stood by him
angel of God, whose he was, and whom he served, s;
Fear not, Paul, &c."

St. Paul was not the only one, to whom Christ mani
himself in this familiar manner. Ananias of Daroascu
peither an apostle^ nor a deacon ; nevertheless, to him
the Lord iu a vision, Ananias. And he said, Behold
here, Lord ; and the Lord said, Arise, and go into the
which is called Straight, and enquire in the house of Juc
one called Saul of Tarsus ; for behold he prayeth." 1
manner Philip was directed to go near and join himself
Eunuch's chariot. And St. Peter being informed, that
men sought htm, Arise, said the Lord, and go with them, i
ifcg nothing, for 1 have sen; them.

Whether we place these manifestations in the class of the ex-
traordinary, or of the mixt ones, we equally learn from them,
(l«t^) That the Lord Jesus revealed himself as much after his
vcetuioii as he did before. (2dly) That if he does it to send
Ins servants with a gospel message to particular persons, he will
doit much more to make that message effectual, and to bring
station to these who wait lor him.

- As for the revelations of Christ to St. John, they were so
Miry, that the last book of the New Testament is called the
Bmlation, as containing chiefly an account of them. " lwas
lithe spirit on the Lord's day, says the apostle ; and I heard
hMni me a great voice, as of a trumpet, saying, I am the first
•atti^be last. I turned to see the voice, that spake with me, and
\mm one like unto the Son of man, clothed with a garment
4m to the foot, and girt with a golden girdle." One of the
things which our Lord commanded John to write, is a most
■glorious promise, that he stands at the door of the human heart,
taady to manifest himself, even to poor lukewarm Laodiceans ;
Jfid ihat, if any man hear his voice and open — if they are made
conscious of their need of him, so as to open their hearts by the
payer of faith, he will come in, and feast them with his gra-
cious presence, and the delicious fruits of his blessed Spirit.
^Therefore the most extraordinary of all die revelations, that
flf St* John in Patroos, not only shews, that the manifestations
rf Christ run parallel to tb canon of scripture, but also gives
I peculiar sanction to the ordinary revelations of him, for which
1 contend.

■ Having thus led you from Genesis to Revelation, I conclude
by two inferences, which appear to me undeniable. The fiiii
that it is evident, our Lord, before his incarnation, during his
May on earth, and after his ascension into heaven, has been
pleased, in a variety of manners, to manifest himself to the chil-
dren of men, both for the benefit of the church in general, and
fa the conversion of sinners, and the establishment of saints in
particular. Secondly, that the doctrine I maintain, is as old
as Adam, as modern as St. John, the last of the inspired writers,
• and as scriptural a£ the Old and New Testament, which is what
I wanted to demonstrate.

dn account of deceased persons being found under the earth wha
were embalmed and some remarks on the wonderful art.

[Meth. Mag. — Eng.]

As to the art of Embalming, it appears from a mummy not
*°Og since dug up in France, that this was m#re completely uw

i

2Ab

fbe Wwiderx of

derstoodin the western world some ages siure, than ever it w
in Egypt. This mummy which was dug up at Auvergne, was;
amazing instance of their skill. As some peasants were diggii
in a field near Rion, within about twenty-six paces of the hig
way, between that and the river Artier, they discovered a ton
that was about a foot and a half beneath the surface. It «
composed only of two stones ; one of which formed the body
the sepulchre, and the other the cover.

This tomb was of free stone, seven feet and a half longythi
feet and a half broad, and about three feet high. It was of rn
workmanship ; the cover had been polished, but was with
figure or inscription ; within this tomb was placed a leaden cod
4 feet 7 inches long, 14 inches broad, and 15 high. It was I
long like a box, equally broad at both ends, and covered w
a lid that fitted on like a snuff-box. without a hinge. Wid
this coffin was a mummy, in the most perfect preservation. T
interna] sides of the coffin were filled with an aromatic si
stance, mingled with clay. Round the mummy was wrapj
a coarse cloth ; under this were two shirts or shrouds, of I
most exquisite texture ; beneath these a bandage, which cow
ed all parts of the body, like an infant in swaddling clothe
under this general bandage there was another, which went pi
ticularly round the extremities, the hands and legs, the head «
-covered with two caps ; the feet and hands were without ii
particular bandages ; and the whole body was covered with :
aromatic substance an inch thick. When these were remove
and the body exposed naked to view, nothing could be tnc
astonishing than the exact resemblance it bore to a body tl
Aad been dead a day or two before. It appeared well propc
tioned, except the head was rather large, and the feet sma
The skin had all the pliancy, and colour of a body lately de»
the visage, however, was of a brownish hue. The belly yiel
ed to the touch : all the joints were flexible, except those of t
legs and feet ; the fingers stretched forth of themselves wh
bent inwards. The nails still continued perfect ; and all t
marks of the joints, both in the fingers, the p?lms of thehani
and the soles of the feet, remained perfectly visible. The boi
of the arms and legs, were soft and pliant ; those of the sk
preserved their rigidity ; the hair which only covered the ba
of the head, was of a chesnut colour, and about two inches loi
The pericranium at top was separated from the skull, by an
cision, in order to the introducing aromatic s in the place off
brain where they were found mixed with clay. The teeth, f
tongue and the ears, were all preserved in perfect form. T
intestines were not taken out of the body, but remained plis
ami *min*. ves in n frrsh subject : and thr breast was made

rise and fall like a pair of bellows. The embalming prepara-
tion bad a very strong and pungent smell, which the body pre-
- served for more than a month after it was exposed to the air*
If one touched either the mummy, or any part of the prepara-
tion, the hands smelt of it for several hours after. This mum-
my having remained exposed for some months, began to suffer
roue mutilations. A part of the skin of the forehead was cut
off ; all its teeth were drawn out, and some attempts were made
to pull away the tongue. It was therefore put into a glass case,
end transmitted to the king's cabinet, at Paris.

There are many reasons to believe this to be the body of a
person of the highest distinction ; however no marks remain to
wore us either of the quality of the person, or the time of
til decease ; there are only to be seen some irregular figures
•otte coffin : one of which represents a kind of star.

There were also some singular characters upon the bandages,
which were totally defaced by those who had torn them. It
iboald seem that it had remained for several ages in this state,
nee the first years immediately succeeding the interment, are
usually those in which the body is most liable to decay.

On this remarkable subject, I beg leave to add an extract
from a late author.

u I always apprehended that human bodies after death, if in-
' terred, or exposed to the air without any preparation to defend
them from the attacks of it. would of necessity corrupt, become
offensive and putrify. The art of embalming is very ancient.
«id was invented to preserve them from this inevitable consc-
ience of death ; but that they may remain unputrified for centu-
ries, without any sort of artificial aid, I have seen so incon test-
ably proved since my arrival at Bremen, that I imagine not the
shadow of doubt can remain about it. Under the cathedral
church is a vaulted apartment, supported on pillars ; it is near
Wy paces long, and half as many broad. The light and air arc
constantly admitted into it by three windows, though it is several
fet beneath the level of the ground. Here are five large oak
toilers, rather than coffins, each containing a corpse. I examin-
ed them severally for near two hours. The most curious, and
Perfect, is that of a woman. Tradition says, she was an English
wontess, who dying here at Bremen, ordered her body to be pla-
ced in this vault uninterred, in the apprehension that her rela-
tions would cause it to be brought over to her native country.
They say it has lain here 250 years. Though the mascular skin
is totally dried in every part, yet so little are the features of the face
wnk or changed, that nothing is more certain than that she was
young, and even beautiful. It is a small countenance, round in

contour : the cartillapre of the no&o and the nostrils Iravt? im-

24* x

dergoue uo alteration : her teeth are all firm in the socket
the lips are drawn away from over them. The cheeks are si
in, but yel less than I ever remembered to have seen in em1
ed bodies. The hair of her head is at this time more than
teen inches long, very thick, and so fast, that I heaved the c
out of the coffer by it ; the colour is a light brown, and I <
a small lock, which is as fresh and glossy as that of a livinj
son. That this lady was of a high rank seems evident fro
extreme fineness of the linen which covers her body. The
lord of the inn, who was with me, said, he remembered it i
years past ; during which time there is not the lean perce
alteration in it. In another coffer is the body of a wor
who is said to have tumbled off the church, and was kill
the fall.- His features evince this most forcibly. Extreme
ny is marked in' them : his mouth is wide open, and his e;
the same ; the eyes are dried up. His breast is unnaturall
tended, and his whole frame betrays a violent death. A
child who died of the small pox is still more remarkable,
marks of the pustules, which have broken the skin on his
and head, are very discernible ; though one should suppose
a body which died of such a distemper, must contain, in a
degree, the seeds of putrefaction. The two other corps*
not less extraordinary. There are in this vault likewise tui
hawks, weasels, and other animals, which have been huj
here some time immemorial, some very lately, and are in the
complete preservation : the skins, bills, feathers all unal
The magistrates do not permit that any fresh bodies be bn
here. The cause of this phenomenon is doubtless the dr
of the place where they are laid. It is in vain to seek fo
other."

A repository of nearly the same kind, a late writer infon
is at 3 monastery near Palermo, in Sicily. It is a long sub
nean gallery, having nine inches on every side, between si:
seven feet high. In each of these is a human body stai
erect, in its usual apparel. The face and the hands are u;
cred, and preserve their shape and natural colour, only a
browner. They are fastened to the wall by the back,
of them are believed to have been there two or three hui
years. Suppose they could remain there forever, what \
it profit their formed inhabitants !

A lute traveller gives a still stranger account of them. "
morning we went to see a celebrated convent of Caput
about a mile without the city of Palermo ; it contains no
very remarkable, but the burial-place, which indeed is a
curiosity. This U a vast subterraneous apartment, dividec
large commodious gallcm*?. tho walls on rucb sid^of vhic

Natuvt and Brovidenct, 249

hollowed into a variety of niches, as if intended for a great col'
leclion of statues : these niches instead of statues, are all filled
with dead bodies, set upright upon their legs, and fixed by the
bark to the inside of the uirh. Their number is about three
hundred ; they are all dressed in the clothes they usually wore
and form a most ri sp«clahK' mid venerable? assembly. The skin
and muscles, by a crrtaiu prepa ration, become as dry and hard
as a piece of stnrk-h^h ; a::d although many of them have been
here upward * of two hundred and fifty years, yet none are re-
duced to skeletons ; though the muscles in some are more shrunk
than in others ; probably because these persons have been more
extenuated at the time of their death.

Here the people of Palermo pay daily visits to their deceas-
ed friends, and recall with pleasure and ngret the scenes of their
past life: here they familiarize themselves with their future
state, and choose the company they would wish to keep in the
other world. It is a common thing to make choice of their nich,
atfl to try if their bnd\ fits it, that no alteration may be neces-
sary after they are de.id ; and sometimes by way of voluntary
penance, they stand for hours in these niches.

The bodies of the princes and first nobility are lodged in
handsome chests or trunks, some of them richly adorned : these
m not in the shape of coffins, but all of one width, and about
*fi>ot and a half, or two feet deep. The keys are kept by the
"Wrest relation of t'.io family, who sometimes come and drop a
teap over their departed friends,

These visits must prove admirable lessons of humility ; and
^.V are not such objects of horror as one would imagine ; they
f app said, even for ages after death, to retain a strong likeness of
at they were when alive ; so that as soon as you have con-
9n*red the first feelings excited by these venerable figures, you
consider this as a vast gallery of original portraits, drawn
after the life, by the ju<test and most unprejudiced hand. It must
k Owned, that the colours are rather faded ; and the pencil
not appear to have been the most flattering in the world :
"ut no matter, it is the pencil of truth, and not cf a mercenary,
w^th only wants to please.

It might also be made of very considerable use to society
*V*se dumb orators could (^ive the most pathetic lectures upor
PrUie and vanity. Whenever a fellow began to strut, or to af-
feft the haughty, supercilious air, he should be sent to converse
J^ith his friends in the gallery : and if their arguments did not
r^itig him to a proper way of thinking, I would give him up as
,r|corrisible.

250

The Wonders of

A TREMENDOUS THUNDER STORM.

Thefottouring is an accovn* of a dreadful storm of thunder, light-
ning and rain, which happened at JltMone, Ireland.

[Meih. Mag.— Eng.]

1. A dreadful blast of high wind, suddenly shook and strip-
ped the guard house. 2. A terrible shower of rain, as if a
whole river had fallen on the street, which being forred on by
a violent wind, made a prodigious noise as ii fell. 3. After
the rain a dreadful and terrible clap of thunder. 4. A thick
darkness ensued, that continued fur half a Rioter of an hour.
5. Continued ligliTuinu broke out without ceding, so that heav- .
en ai d earth sceimd to be united in the flan.c ; \thirh was
more terrible to the guards than all thai happened before, and
ended with three claps of dreadful thunder out of a fiery cloud
from the North ; which running violently through the air, stopt
just above the ensile. At the last of the three claps, in the
twinkling of an eye, fell a wonderful great round b« dy of fire, '
out of the clouds, directly upon the ens V ; and in a moment
the magazine blew up, v.hich contained two huudied and sixty
barrels of powder, one thousand chare ed hand grenades : wi.h
eight hundred and ten ska.-u-s of match, which were piled over
them two hnndr* d and 'wei.iy barrels vi musket and pistol
b^ls ; great quantities of pick-axis, spades, ^hovels, horse-
shoes, and nails ; all blew up into the air, and covered the
whole town, and neighbouring fields : by the violence of the
shock, the town gates were all blown open. The poor inhab-
itants, who were generally asleip whe* this tragical scene be-
gan, were awaked with the different, surprising misfurtriies
which befel them : some finding themselves buried in the ruins
of their own houses ; others finding their houses in a flame
above their heads; others blown from their beds into the streets ;
others having their brains knocked out with ti e fall of great
stones, and breaking of hand-grenades in their houses. These
Stupifviuc disasters w ithin doors, made most of the poor, amaied
mortals, fly to the streets for shelter ; where to their great as-
tonishment, they saw the air filled with di fir rent shapes of fire,
ready to fall upon their houses and heads. The great quantities
of match that w s blow n up. ocasioiing these different figures
of (ire, which being followed with great thunder- claps, made
many of these helpless inhabitants believe that it wa> the Day
of Judgment j who therefore for some time minded nothing hut
their prayers, without using any other means for the prcserva-

Nature and Providence.

n of themselves or neighbours. In the mean time the lighted
tch firing the thatched houses, burned to the ground, the
safest part of what the thunde r and blast of wind had left
nding ; so th.it little remained of the whole town, but a few
or cottages without the gates.

Hark ! the far off inutt'ring Bound,
What fearful shades are gath'ring round ;
Yon trembling tree of verdant leaf.
Seems now to weep of piteous grief ;
Some dark'uing clouds there seems to be,
Just heaving from the Northern Sea ,
Their edge is ting'd of fiery hue,
And pilM up thunder heaves in view.
Now dies the zigzag lightning there,
And pierce wit^i fire the murky air.
And like a lamp th«* y burn, they blaze,
And flash along the stormy ways ;
But now the gloom is gath'ring round,
And deaPning thunders jar the ground ;
The raven cloud* are rent in twain,
And plungiug torrents 'whelm the plain ;
But now a more terrific gloom,
Frowns o'er the heav'ns a deeper doom,
A jet black cloud of latent fires.
Just pendent o'er the Castle's spires,
Three dreadful peals of thunder there,
And lightnings three more horrid glare,
When lo ! descending from above,
A thunderbolt right onward drove
His plough share on the cattle brow.
And fir'd the Magazine below ;
When e:irth at centre 'gaii to moan,
Then hclch'd her last expiring groan.

-»»•#»"-

FEMALE CONSTANCY REWARDED.

i Everara?* Letters, published in Italian, in 1778, he gives the
following interesting account of an adventure which he met with
in the quicksilver mines of Idria,

[Zion's Herald.]

** After pacing," he says, " through several parts of the
Ips, and having visited Germany, ! thought I could not well re-
mi home without visiting tiie quicksilver mines at ldria. and
>eing those dreadful subterranean caverns where thousands
re condemned to reside, shut out from all hopes of ever seeing
le cheerful light of the sun, and obliged to toil out a miserable
fe under the whips of imperious task masters. " Such

i

The Wondtrs ef

wretches as the inmntes of this place my eyes never behelf
The blackness of their visages only servos to rover a horrk
paleness, caused bv the noxious qualities of the mineral they ac
employed inprocurinir. As they in general consist of ma Mar
tors condemned for life to thi> risk, they are fed at the publ
expen>e ; hut they seldom consume ninrh provisions, as the
lose their appetites in a short time, and commonly in about im
years expire from a total contraction of all the joints in tft
body. " In this horrid mansion I walked alter m\ guide fc
some time, pondering on the orange tyranny and avarice <
mankind, when I was startled by a vnee behind me, calline ir
byn iine,and inquiring after my heal? h with most cordial iiffectifrJ
f turned, and saw a creature all hlark and hideous, who a|
pro-iched me, and with a ♦ » »st piteous accent exclaimed, 4 Ah
Mr. Everard, don't \ou kn »w me?' (ir.u'ious » leaven*
what was my surprise when, through the talc of his wretchec
ness, I discovered the features of my old and di ar friend, Cnni
Alberti. You must remember him one of the gayest, m»
agreeable persons at the court of Vienna ; at on e t e parage
of the men and the favourite of the fair sex. I have often hear
you repeat his name as one of the few that did honour to A
present age : as possessed of generosity and pity in the highe?
degree, as one who made no other use of his fortune, but to nil
viate the distresses of his fellow creatures. Immediately on re-
cognizing him, I flew to him with affection ; anil after a tear «
condolence, asked him how he came there? To this \v rrpl
ed, that having fought a duel with a general of the Aistris
infantry, against the emperor's command, ami havinir left hi
for dead, he was obliged to ly into one of the forests of I*tr
where he was first taken prisoner, and afterwards sheltered Yz
some banditti, who had long infested that quarter. — With the-
he had lived for nine months, till by a close investiture of tP
place in which they were conceal' d and a very obstinate resi '
tence, in which the greater part of tlem were killed, he wC
taken and carried to Vienna, in order to be broke alive upon tta
wheel. On arriving at the capital, howev< r, he wa> soon recog"
nrzed, and through the intercession of friends, his punishments
the rack was changed into that of perpetual imprisonment anr
labour in the mines of Idria.

M As Alberti w as giving me thi< account, a young woman cami
up to hiin, who I at once saw to be born f.»r better fortune
The dreadful situation of the place was not able to destroy iiei
beaut}' ; and even in this scene of wretchedness, she seenv-d U
have charms to grace the most brilliant assembly. This lad\
was in fact daughter to one of the first families in Germany
and having tried every means to procure her lover's piirdoi

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Nature and Providenct.

effect, was at last resolved to share bis miseries, as she
ot relieve him. With him she accordingly descended
se mansions, whence few of the living return ; and with
» is contented to live ; with him to toil ; forgetting the
i of life, despising the splendours of opulence, and con-
rith the consciousness of her own constancy."

constancy could not go unrewarded. — In a letter written
ys after, Mr. Everard relates that he was "the spectator
nost affec ting scene he ever yet beheld. A person came
im Vienna, to the little village near the month of the
shaft. He was soon after followed by a second, and by
Their first inquiry was after the unfortunate Count,
appened to overhear it, gave the beat information I

Two of these were the brother and cousin of the lady;
J was a fellow soldier and intimate friend of the Count;
He with his pardon, which had been procured by the
with whom the duel had been fought, who was perfect-
rered from his wounds. I led them with all the expedi-
joy down to his dreary abode ; presented to him his
and informed hi«o of the happy change in his circum-
It would be impossible to describe the joy that brigh-
>on his grief worn countenance; nor was the young lady's

less vivid at seeing her friends, and hearing of her htu-
reedom.

' hours were employed in mending the appearance of
iful couple ; nor could I without a tear, behold him tak-
e of the former wretched companions of his toil. We
erged from the mine, and Aiberti and his wife once more
I the light of the sun.

? empress had again taken him in favor, his fortune and
? restored : and he, with his fair partner, now have ine
satisfaction of enjoying happiness with double relish, as
reknew what it was to be miserable."

'owing interesting account is extracted from the History
rxico, re sp f eting the manners and customs of its Ancient
itants in their liar rid Idol worship.

\N SLATED FROM THE ITALIAN BY C. CuLLEN, EsO,.

•:ntly tl e high -priesthood was conferred by election ;
are ignorant whether the electors were of the priestly
r the same with those who chose the political heid of
ire. The high-priests of Mexico were distinguished by

The Wondtrs oj

a tuft of cotton which lump: from their breast ; and at the princi-
pal feasts they were dressed in splendid habits, upon which were
represented the insignia of the god whose feast they celebrated.
On solemn festivals, the hieh-priests of the Mixtecas was cloth-
ed in a short coat, on which the principal events of their my-
thology was represented ; above that he hid a surplice, and
over all a large capuchin ; on head he wore plumes of preea
feathers, curiously interwoven with small figures of their gods;
at his shoulder hui.g one tassel of cotton, and another hung at
his arm.

Next to this supreme dignity of the priest-hood, the most re-
spectable charge was th- 1 of tlie Menu oteohuuizin, i» hicli was
conferred by the high-priest*. The employment of this officer
was to attend to the due observance of the rites and ceremonies,
and to watch over the conduct of tho*e priests who had the
charge of seminaries, and to punish them when guilty of a
misdemeanor. In order to enable him to discharge all the da-
ties of so extensive an appointment, he was allowed two co-
rates or deputies, the one named ihe HiMtznahuatcohuatftin,the
other the Tepaneohuatzin The Mexicoteohuatzin was the su-
perior-general of all the seminaries ; his chief badge of His-'
tinction was a little bag of copal, which he always carried along
with him.

Four times a day they offered incense to the idols, namely,*
day-break, at mid-day, at sun-set, and at mid-night. The last
offering was made by the priest whose turn it was to do so, and
the most respectable officers of the temple attended at it. To
the sun they made daily new offerings, four times during the
day, and five times during the night. For incense they gene-
rally made use of copal, or some » thcr aromatic gum ; but ot
certain festivals they employed Chapopotli, or Bitumen of J*
dea. The censers were commonly made of clay ; but they had
also censers of pold. Every day the priests, or at leaft sob*
of them dyed their whole bodies with ink made of the soot rf
the Ocotl, which is a species of pine very aromatic, and over
the ink they painted themselves with ocre or cinnabar, aad
every evening they bathed in ponds which were within the in-
closures of the temple.

The dress of the Mexican priests was no way different fro©
the dress of the common people, except a black cotton mantle,
which they wore in the manner of a veil upon their heads; but
those who in their monasteries professed a greater austerity of
life, went always clothed in black, like the common priests of
other nations of the empire. They never shaved, by which
means the hair of many of them grew so long as to reach to
their legs. It was twisted with thick cotton cords, and bedaub-

Nature and Providence.

with ink, forming a weighty mass not less inconvenient to
carried about with them than disgusting and even horrid to
w .

Besides the usual unction with ink another extraordinary and
re abominable one was practised every time they went to
ke sacrifices on the tops of' the mountains, or in the dark cav-
is of the earth. They took a large quantity of poisonous in-
rU, snch as scorpions, spiders, and worms, and sometimes
en small serpents, burned them over some stove of the tern-
if a lib* beat their ashes in a mortar together wifh the soot of
i Ocotl, tobacco, the herb Ololitihqui, and some lixe indicts,
liey presented thi* diabolical mixture in small vessels to their
ids, and afterwards rubbed their bodies with it. When thus
lointed they became fearless to every danger, being perstiad-
I they were rendered incapable of receiving any hurt from the
lost obnoxious reptiles of the earth, or the wildest beasts of
ie woods. They called it Teopatli, or divine medicament,
iid imagined it to be a powerful remedy for several disorders ;
d which account those who were sick, and the young children,
wit frequently to the priests to be anointed with it. The young
ids who were trained up in the >emiuarii\s were charged with
ie collecting of such kind of little animals ; and by being ac-
nstomcd at an early age to that kind of employment, they soon
wt the horror which attends the fir-t familial hy with such rep-
les. The priests not only made use of this unction, but had
kcwise a ridiculous superstitious habit of blowing with their
rcath over the sick, and made them drink water which they
id blessed after their manner. The priests of the god Ixliton,
ere remarkable for this custom.

The priests observed many fasts^aud. great austerity of life :
icy never were intoxicated with drinking, * and seldom ever
sled wine. The priests of TezcaUoucatl as soon as the daily
nging in priise of their god was over, laid a heap of three hun-
ted and three canes on the ground, corresponding to the nuni-
?r of finders, of w hich heap only one was bored ; every person
led one, and he who happened to take up the cane which was
>red, was the only person who tasted the wine. All the time
at they were employed in the service nf the temple, they ab-
utted fro u all other women but their .lives; they even aflec-
d so much modesty and reserve, that when they met a wo-
an, they fixed their eyes on the ground that they might not see
sr. Any incontinance amongst the prie>ts was severely puu-
hed. The prie.-t who, at Teohua< an, was convicted of hav-
g violated his charity, was delivered up by the priests to the
H)|ile, who at night killed him by the basinado. In lcheatlan.
ie high-priest was obliged to live constantly w ithin the tempi*'.

j

The Wonders of

and to abstain from commerce with any woman whatsoex
and if he unluckily failed in any of his duties, he wascertaii
being torn in pieces, and his blood} limbs were presented a
example to his successor. They poured boiling water on
head of those who, from laziness, did not rise to the noctu
duties of the temple, or bored their lips and ears, and if
did not correct lhat, or any other such fault, they were due
in the lake and banished from the emple during the fest
which was made to the prod of water in the sixth month,
priests in general I ve together in communities, subject to s
riors who watched over their conduct.

The office and character of a priest among the Mexicans
not in its nature perpetual. There were certainly some
dedicated their whole lives to the service of the altars;
others en paged in it on)} for a certain time, to fulfill some
made by their fathers, or as a particular act of devotion,
was the priesthood confined to the male >ex, some women b<
employed in the immediate service of the temples. TheyoJ
ed incense to the idols, tended the sacred fire, sweep then
prepared the daily offering of provisions, and presented it 1
theii hands to the idols ; but they were entirely excluded f
the office of sacrificing, and the higher dignities of the pri
hood. Among the priestesses, borne were destined by their
rents from their infancy to the service of the temples ; otl
on account of some particular vow which they had made dm
sickness, or that they might ensure from their gods a goodt
riage, or the prosperity of their families, entered upon such
ces for one or two years.

The consecration of the first was made in the following o
nerl As soon as the girl was horn, the parents offered he
some god, and informed the rector of that district of it ; he{
notice to the Tepanteohuatzin, who, as we have already r
tiont'd, was the supprior-general of the seminaries. r
months after they carried her to the temple, and put a s
broom, and a small censer of clay in her little hands, with a'
copal iu it, to shew her destination. Every month they ref
ed the visit to the temple and the oifrring, together with
bark of some trees for the sacred fire. When the child atta
her fifth year, the parents consigned her to the Tepanteoh
zin. who lodged her in a female seminary, where children i
instructed in rclig on and the proper duties and employrr
of their sex The first thing done to those who entered iutc
service on account of some private vow, was the cutting off I
hair. Both the latter and the former lived in great paril
manners, silence, and retirement, under their superiors, witl
having- any communication with men. Some of them rose al

Allure and Previdcuvr.

251

» hours before mid-night, others at midnight, and others tit
tr-break, to stir up and keep the fire burning, and to offer in-
se to the Idols ; and although in tins function they assembled
h die priests, they were separated from each other, the men
ming one wing and the women another, both under the view
tbeir superiors, who prevented any disorder from happening,
'ery morning they prepared the offering of provisions which
a presented to the idols, and swept the lower area of the tern-
and the time which was not occupied in these, or other re-
ions duties, was employed in spinning and weaving beautiful
ths for the dress of the idols, and the decoration of the sanc-
iries. Nothing was more zealously attended to than thechast-
of these virgins. Any trespass of this nature was unpardon-
le | if it remained an entire secret, the female culprit en-
avoured to appease the anger of the gods by fasting and aus-
ity of life ; for she dreaded that in punishment of her crime
r flesh would rot. When a virgin destined from her infancy
the worship of the gods arrived at the age of sixteen or
{hteen, at which years they were usually married, her parents
Qgbt for a husband to her and after they found one. presented
the Tepanteohuatzih a certain number of quails in plates cu-
mly varnished, and a certain quantity of copal, of flowers and
ovisions, accompanied with a studied address, in which they
inked him for the care an I attentiun he had shewn in the ed-
ition of their daughter, and demanded his permission to settle
rin marriage. The Tepanteohuatzin granted the request, in
reply to the address, exhorting his pupil to a perseverance in
we, and the fulfilment of all the duties of the married state.
Amongst the different orders or congregations, both of men
d women, who dedicated themselves to the worship of some
rticular gods, that of Quetzalcoatl is worthy to be mentioned,
le life led in the colleges or monasteries of either sex, which
re devoted to this imaginary god, was uncommonly rigid and
stere. The dress of the order was extremely decent ; they
ihed regularly at mid-night, and watched until about two
urs before day, singing In mus to their god, and observing ma-
rules of an austere life. They weve at liberty to go to the
mntains at any hour of the day or night, to spill their blood ;
s was permitted them from a respect to the virtue which they
ie all thought to possess. The superiors of the monasteries
re also the name of Quetzalcoatl, and were persons of such
gh authority, that they visited none but the king when it was
cesaar* , The members of this religious order were destined
it from their infancy. The parents of the child invited the
perior to an entertainment, who usuully deputed one of his
bjects. The depntv brought the child to him, upon which

258

The Wonders of

took (he boy in his arms, and offered him with a prayer to Quel*
zalcoatl, and put a collar about his neck, which was to be won
until he was seven years old. When the boy completed his se-
cond year, the superior made a small incision in his breatf,
which, like the collar, Has another mark of his destination. As
soon as the boy attained his seventh year, he entered the monas-
tery, having first heard a long discourse from his parents, in
which they advertised him of the vow which they had made to
Quctzacoatl, and exhorted him to fulfil it, to behave well, to sub-
mit himself to his prelate, and to pray to the gods for his parents
and the whole nation. This order was called Tlaroacaicajot^
and the members of it Tlamacnzque.

Another order wh-rh was called Telpochtliztli, or the youths,
on account of its being composed of youths and boys was conse-
crated to Tezcatlipoca. Tin* was also a destination from in-
fancy, attended with almost the same ceremonies as that of
Quctzalcoatl ; however, they did not live together in one com-
munity, but each individual had his own home. In every dis-
trict of the city they had a superior, who governed them,1 and
a house where they assembled at sun-set to dance and sing Ac
praises of their god. Both sexes met at this dance, butwitboat
committing the smallest disorder, owing to the vigilance of the
superiors, and the rigour with which all misdemeanors woe
punished.

Among the Totonacas was an order of monks devoted to their
goddess Ceuteotl. They lived in great retirement and auster-
ity, and their life, excepting their superstition and vanity, was
perfectly unimpeachable. None but men above sixty years of
age who were w idowers, estranged from all commerce with wo-
men, and of virtuous life, were admitted into this monastery.
Their number was fixed, and when any one died another wasie-
ceived in his stead. These monks were so much esteemedf
that they were not only consulted by the common people, kot
likewise by the first nohilif v, and the high priest. They listened
to consultations sitting upon their heels with their eyes fixed i
upon the ground, and their answers were received like orselef
even by the kings of Mexico. They were employed inmakisg
historical paintings, which they gave to the high-priest thtt to
might exhibit them to the people.

But the most important duty of the priesthood, and the chief
ceremony of the religion of the Mexicans consisted in theio*
orifices which they made occasionally to obtain any favour fro**
. heaven, or in gratitude for those favours w hich they hadalresty
received. This is a subject which we would willingly pW*
over, if the laws of history permitted, to prevent the disgust which
fhe description of such abominable acts of cruelty must cao^

Nature and Providence.

25!>

nur readers ; for although there has hardly been a nation which
lias not practised similar sacrifices, it would he difficult to find
one which has carried them to so great an excess as the Mexi-
cans appear to have done.

We are ignorant what sort of sacrifices may have been prac-
tised by the ancient Tohecas. The Chechemecas continued
loop without using thfln, having at first neither idols, temples,
nor priests, nor offering any thing to their gods, the Sun and
Moon, but herbs, flowers, fruits, aud copal. Those nations
. never thought of sacrificing human victims, until the example of
the Mexicans banished the first impressions of nature from their
miuds. What they report con erning the origin of such bar-
barons sacrifices, we have already explained ; namely, that which
appears in their history, concerning the first sacrifice of the four
i Xochimilcan prisoners, which they made when in f'olhuacan.
It is probable, that at the time when the Mexicans were insulated
m the lake, and particularly while they remained subject to the
£ Tepanceas, the sacrifice of human victims must have happened
" 'wry seldom, as they neither had prisoners nor could purchase
* slaves for sacrifices. Hut when they had enlarged their domin-
tens, tad multiplied their victories, sacrifices became frequent
Sid ou some festivals the victims were numerous.
The sacrifices varied with respect to the number, place, and
^ mde, according to the circumstances of the festival. In gene-
v. Ikl the victims suffered death by having their breasts opened ;
tat others were drowned in the lake, others died of hunger shut
spin caverns of the mountains, and lastly, some fell in thegia-
tittorian sacrifice. The customary place wa? the temple, in the
dipper area of which stood the altar destined for ordinary sacrifi-
ces. The altar of the greater temple of ."Mexico was a green
Hone (probably Jasper) convex above, and about three feet high,
I lad as many broad, and more than five feet long. The usual

* Misters of the sacrifice were six priests, the chief of whom was
[ rae Topiltzin, whose dignity was pre-eminent and hereditary ;

* tot at every sacrifice he assumed the name of the god to w hom
[■ fcwas made. For the performance of this function he was
! d©tbed in- a red habit, similar in make to the scrupuhiry of the
[ Moderns fringed with cotton ; on his head he wore a crown of
; green and yellow feathers, at his ears hung golden ear-rings and

green jewels, (perhaps emeralds.) and at hi* under lip a pendant
[ if turquoise. The other five ministers were dressed in white
habits of the same make, but embroidered with black ; their
kur was wrapped up, their heads > ere bound with leathern
(tongs, the foreheads armed with little shields of paper paint-
ed of various colours, and tl>eir bodies dyed all over black-

The. Wonders of

These barbarous ministers carried the victim entirely naked
to the upper area of the temple, and after having pointed out
to the idol to whom the sacrifice was made, that they might pay
their adoration to it, extended him upon the altar; four priests
held his legs and arms, and another kept his head firm with a
wooden instrument made in form of a coiled serpent, which
was put about his neck ; and on account1*^ the altar being con-
vex, the body of the victim lay arched, the breast and belly be-
ing raised up and wholly pre vented from the least movement—
The inhuman Topiltzin then approached, and with a cutting
knife made of flint, dexterously opened bis breast and tore oat
his heart, which, while yet palpitating, he offered to the sun, and
afterwards threw it at the feet of the idol ; then taking it up
again he offered it to the idol itself, and afterwards burned it
preserving the allies with the utmost veneration. If the idol
was gigantic and hollow, it was usual to introduce the heart of
the victim into its mouth with a golden spoon. It was custon-
ary also to anoint the lips of the idol and the cornices of the door
of the sanctuary with the victim's blood. If he was a prisoner
of war as soon as he was sacrificed thry cut off his head to pre-
serve the skull, and threw the body down the stairs to the* lover*
area, where it was taken up by the officer or soldier to whom the?
prisoner had belonged and carried to his house to be boiled and.
dressed as an entertainment of his friends. If he w as not aprift —
oner of war, but a slave purchased for a sacrifice, the proprietor
carried off the carcase from the altar for the same purpose-
They eat only the legs, thighs, and arms, and burned the res«- »
or preserved it for food to the wild beasts or birds of pre^'
which were kept in the royal palaces. The Otomies. after bav
ing killed the victim, tore the body in pieces, which they sol *3
at market. The Zapotecas sacrificed men to their gods, w> "
men to their goddesses, and children to some other diminutive
deities.

This was the most common mode of sacrifice, but often at-
tended with some circumstances of still greater cruelty, as
shall see hereafter ; other kinds of sacrifices which they nie**
were much less frequent. At the festival of Teteoinsm, thew©- •
man who represented this goddess was beheaded on the shoul-
ders of another woman. At the festival of the arrival of the
gods, they put the victim to death by fire. At one of the
tivals made in honour of Tlaloc, they sacrificed two children of
both sexes by drowning them in a certain place of the lake.-^
At another festival of the same god, they purchased three liU^
boys of six or seven years of age, shut them up inhumanly in *
cavern, and left them to die of fear and hunger.

The most celebrated sacrifice among the Mexicans was th*f

JSiaiure and Providence..

called by the Spaniards with much propriety the gladiatorian.
rhis was a very honourable death, and only prisoners who were
renowned for their bravery were permitted to die by it. Near
:o the greater temple of large cities, in an open space of ground
sufficient to contain an immense crowd of people, was a round
terrace, eight feet high upon which was placed a large round
fttone, resembling a raill-stone in figure, but greatly larger, and
almost three feet high, well polished with figures cut upon it.
On. this stone, which was railed the Temalacatl, the prisoner
was placed, armed with a shield and a sharp- sword, and tied by
one foot. A Mexican officer or soldier, better accoutred in
arms, mounted to combat with him.

» Every one will be able to imagine the efforts made by the
desperate victim to defend his life, and also those of the Mexican
to save his honour and reputation, before the multitude of peo-
ple that assembled at such a spectacle. If the prisoner remain-
ed vanquished, immediately a priest named Chalchiuhtepehua,
carried him dead or alive to the altar of the common sacrifices,
opened his breast, and took out his heart, whi e the victor was
applauded by the assembly, and rewarded by the king with some
military honour. But if the prisoner conquered six different
combatants, who came successively to fipht uith him, agreeably
to the account given by the conquerer Cortes, he was granted
Us life, his liberty, and all that had been taken from him, and
turned with glory to his native country. The same author
*'atcg, that in a battle between the Cholulans and Huexotzincas,
bo principal lord of Cholula grew so warm in the contest,

having inadvertently removed to a great distance from his
*m people he was made prisoner in spite of his bravery, and
onxlucted to Huexotzinco, where being put upon the gladiato-

stone, he conquered seven combatants which were opposed
iohim, and gained his liberty; but the Huexotzincas foreseeing,
that on account of his singular courage he would become the
cause of many disasters to them if they granted him his liberty,
put him to death contrary to universal custom ; by which act they
rendered themselves eternally infamous among those nations,

EXTRACTS FROM BARTRAM'S TRAVELS-

■ftfr. Bertram's researches and adventures in the wilds of the south-
ern states before their general settlement.

[Meth. Mag.— Eng.]

Intelligent readers, who attend to the following extraordi-
nary narrative, will naturally enquire into the degree of credit

202* The IVondcrs of

which is due to the relator. It is necessary therefore to inform
them, that Mr. John Bartram, the father of our present author,
of the profession called quakers, was botanist to the king of
Great Britain, a fellow of the royal society, and a person of t
very respectable character. His son William Bartram at the
request of Dr. Fothergill, of Londoh, in 17"<3, undertook to
search the Florida*, and the western parts of Carolina and
Georgia, for the discovery of rare and use ful productions of na-
ture, chiefly in the vegetable kingdom. He not only manifest*
an inviolable regard to truth, for which the quakers have always
been remarkable; but an uncommon degree of piety towards
God, and philanthropy towards his fellow creatures : qualities
rarely to be found among modern travellers. He acknowl-
edges, that while he was impelled by a restless spirit of curiosity,
in pursuit of new productions of naiure, his chief happiness
consisted in tracing and admiring the infinite power, majesty,
and perfections of the great Almighty C reator, and in (be
contemplation, that through the divine aid, and permission, be
might be instrumental in discovering, and introducing into bis
native country, some original productions of nature, which
might become useful to society. Animated with tin* laudable
enthusiasm, Mr. Bartram urges his way through the howling
wilds c f America ; sometimes alone, for days together^ ami
sometimes in company, as opportunity offered. The following;
extract contains some occurrences which happened to him ifl
his voyage up the river St. John, in East Florida.

" Being desirous of continuing my travels and observations
higher up the river, and having an invitation from a person
who was agent for, and resident at, a large plantation, the pro- j
perty of an English gentleman, about sixty mrles higher up, I
resolved to pursue my researches to that place ; and having
engaged in my service a >ouni» Indian, lie agreed to assist n*
in working my vessel up as high as a certain bluff, where I was
to land him, on the west or Indian shore.

" Provisions and all necessaries being procured, and tb*
mornhitr pleasant, we went on board and stood up the rive*
We passed for several miles on the left, by the islands of hig^1
swamp land, exceedingly fertile. T!ie\ consist of a loose bla^
mould, with a mixture of sand, shells, and dissolved vejretabte^*
The opposite Indian coast is a perpendicular bluff, ten tf^f
twelve feet high, consisting' of a black sandy earth, mixed wiC*
a larger proportion of shells. Near the river, on this hig~*
shore, grew the beautiful evergreen shrub -called wild lime & 3
tallow nut. This shrub grows six or eight feet high, and pr» "
duces a large oval fruit, of the shape and size of an ordinary
plum, of a fine yellow colour when ripe : a soft sweet pulp*

Nature and Providence. *2Q3

vers a nut which has a thin shell, enclosing a white kernel
tnewhat of the consistence and taste of the s*-- . « \

t more oily, and very much like hard tallow, ii induced
f father when he first observed it, to call it the tall w nut.
At the upper end of this bluff is a fine orange grove. Here
y Indian companion requester! me to set him on shore, being
ready tired of rowing under a fervid sun, and having for some
me hrtimatecf a dislike to his situation. I readily complied
itb hh desire, knowing the impossibility of compelling an In-
iaa against his own inclinations, or even prevailing upon him
f reasonable arguments, when labour is in the question. Be-
rn my vessel reached the shore, he sprang out of her, and land-
1, when uttering a >hrill and terrible whoop, he bounded off
ke a roebuck, and I lost sight of him. 1 at first apprehended,
Bat as He t<>ok his gun with him, he intended to hunt for some
pme and return to me in the evening. The day being exces-
ively hot and sultry I concluded to take up my quarters here .
mtil next morning.

uThe Indian not returning, I set sail alone. The little lake,
which is an expansion of the river, now appeared in view ; on
the east side are extensive marshes, and on the other, high for-
est and orange groves, and then a bay, lined with vast cypress
swamps, both coasts gradually approaching each other, to the
opening of the river again, which is in this place about 300
yards wide. Evening now drawing on, I was anxious to reach
•wne high bank of the river, where I intended to lodge ; and
•greeably to my wishes, I soon after discovered on the west
•hore a little promontory, at the turning of the river, contract-
ing it here to about one hundred and fifty yards in width. This
Promontory is a peninsula, containing about three acres of high
potrnd, and is one entire orange grove, with a few live oaks,
ftfegnolias and palms. tfpon doubling the point, I arrived at
*ke 1 nding, which is a circular harbour, at the foot of the bluff,
*e top of which is about twelve feet high ; the back of it is a
'*pge cypress swamp, that spreads each way, the fight wing
Arming the west coast of the little lake, and th<; left stretching
*p the river many miles, and encompassing a vast space of low
?rassy marshes. From this promontory, looking eastward
^ross the river, I beheld a landscape of low country, unparal-
*led as I think ; on the left is the east coast of the little lake,
*hich I had just passed ; and from the orange bluff at the low-
end, die high forests begin, and increase in breadth from the
shore of the lake, making a circular sweep to the right, and
contain many hundred thousand acres of me;juow; and this
island sweep of hi'jrh forests encircles, as I apprehend, at least
twenty miles of the>r ureen M<\<. interspersed with hammock*

The Wonder* of

<m islets of evergreen trees, where the sovereign magnolia and
lordly palm stands conspicuous. The islets are high fhelly
knolls,. on the sides of creeks or branches of the river, which
wind about and drain off the superabundant waters that com
these meadows during the winter season.

" The evening was temperately cool and calm. The croco-
diles* begun to roar appear in uncommon numbers along
the shores anJ in the river. I fixed my camp in an open plain,
near the utmost projection of the promontory, under the shelter
of a large live oak which stood on the highest part of the ground,
and but a few yards from my boat. From this open, high sitna-
ation, I had a free prospect of the river, which was a matter of
no trivial consideration to me, having good reason to dread (he
subtle attacks of the alligators, who were crowding about my
harbour. Having collected a good quantity of wood for the
purpose of keeping up a light and smoke during the uigfar, I
began to think of preparing my supper, when, upon examining
my stores, I found but a scant) provision. I thereupon deter-
mined, as the most expeditious way of supplying my necessities,
to take my bob and try for some trout. About one hundred
yards above my harbour, began a cove or bay of the river out
of which opened a large lagoon. The mouth or entrance Iron
the river to it was narrow, but the waters soon after spread ud
formed a little lake, extending into the marshes : its entrance
and shores within 1 observed to be verged with floating lawns of
thepista and nymphea and other aquatic plants ; these I knew
were excellent haunts for trout.

" The verges and islets of the lagoou were elegantly em-
bellished with flowering plants and shrubs ; the laughing coot*
with wings half spread were tripping over the little coves amd
hiding themselves in the tufts of grass; young broods of tb«
painted summer teal, skimming the still surface of the waters*
and following the watchful parent unconscious of danger, irer*
frequently surprised by the voracious trout ; and he, in turn?
as often by the subtle alligator. Behold him rushing fort)*
from the flags and reeds. His enormous body swells. Hi-
plaited tail brandished high, floats upon the lake. The wale*"*
like a cataract descend from his open jaws. Clouds of smo^e
issue from his dilated nostrils. The earth trembles with hi5
thunder. When immediately from the opposite coast of the
lagoon, emerges from the deep, his rival champion. Tb^y
suddenly dart upon each other. The boiling surface of the
lake markstheir rapid course, and a terrific conflict commenc^5*
They now sink to the bottom folded together in horrid wreatli^*'

» Mr. JWfrani ma!** u-c o. tern- Aliigutor and Crocodile indi-crimiii***'*
u»r the nimin;! ; Alligator Jjnojr ttv riuntry unmr

SCdXuet aid Providtnce.

er becomes thick and discoloured. Again tltey risef
rs clap together re-echoing through the deep surround-
sts. Again they sink, when the contest ends at the
tottom of the lake, and the vanquished makes a hazard*
)e, hiding himself in the muddy turbulent waters and
1 a distant shore. The proud vigtor exulting returns
lace of action. The shores and forests resound his
roar, together with the triumphing shouts of the plait-
around, witnesses of the horrid combat,
apprehensions were greatly alarmed after being a spec-
so dreadful a battle. It was obvious that every delay
ut tend to increase my dangers and difficulties, as the
near setting, and the alligators gathered around my
from all quarters. From these considerations 1 con-
:o be expeditious in my trip to the lagoon, in order
some fish. Not thinking it prudent to take my fusee
, lest I might lose it overboard in case of a battle,
had every reason to dread before my return, I there-
ished myself with axlub for my defence, went on board,
»trating the first line of those which surrounded my har-
?y gave way : but being pursued by several very large
kept strictly on the watch, and paddled with all my
wards the entrance of the lagoon, hoping to be shel-
?re from the multitude of my assailants ; but ere I had
f reached the place, I was attacked on all sides, several
ured to overset the canoe. My situation now became
us to the last degree ; two very large ones attacked
•ly, at the same instant, rushing up with their heads and
their bodies above the water, roaring terribly aid belch*
Is of water over me. They struck their jaws together
to my ears, as almost to stun me, and I expected every
to be dragged out of the boat, and instantly devoured,
ed my weapons so effectually about me. though at ran-
U 1 was so successful as to beat them off a little ; when
;hat they designed to renew the battle, I made for thd
' the only means left me for my preservation ; for, by
close to it, I should have my enemies on one side of me
iereas.1 was before surrounded by them ; and there was
aility, if pushed (o the last extremity, of saving myself,
ing out of the canoe on shore, as it is easy to outwalk
the laud, although comparatively as swift as lightning
ater. I found this last expedient alone could fully an-
' expectations, for as soon as I had gained the shore,
iw off and kept aloof. This was a happy relief, as vnv
ce wa^ in «<>me degree recovered bv H-

The Wondtrjt •/

" On recollecting myself, I discovered that 1 had almost
reached the entrance of the lagoon, and determined to venture
in, if possible to take a few fish, and then return to my harbour,
while day-light continued ; for I could now, with caution and
resolution, make my way with safety along shore ; and indeed
there was no other way to regain my camp, without leaving my
boat and making my retreat through the marshes and reefk,
which, if I could even effect, would have been in a manner
throwing myself away, for then there would have been no hopes
of ever recovering my bark, and returning with safety to any
settlements of men. I accordingly proceeded, and made good
iny entrance into the lagoon, though not without opposition
from the alligators, who formed a line across the entrance, but
did not pursue me into it, nor was I molested by any there^
though there were some very large ones -in a cove at the upper
end. \

" [ soon caught more trout than I had present occasion for,
and the air was too hot and sultry to admit of their being kept
for many hours. I now prepared for my return to camp, wiud)
1 succeeded in with but little trouble, by keeping close to the
shore ; yet I was opposed upon re-entering the river out of the
lagoon, and pursued near to my landing', particularly by an old
daring one, about twelve feet in length, who kept close after
me ; and when I stepped on shore and turned about, in order
to draw up my canoe, he rushed up near my feet, and lay that
for some time, looking me in the face, his head and shoulders
out of the water. I resolved he should pay for his temerity }
and having a heavy load iu my fusee, I ran to my camp, tool
returning with rny piece, found him with his foot on the gun-
wale of the boat, in search of fish. On my coming up, he
withdrew sullenly and slowly into the water, but soon returned
and placed himself in his former position, looking at me, andl
seeming neither fearful nor any way disturbed. I soon dis-
patched him by lodging the contents of my gun in his head,
and then proceeded to cleanse and prepare ray fish for supper *
and accordingly took them out of the boat*, laid them dowa
on the sand close to the water, and began to scale them ; wheO*
raising my head, I saw before me, through the clear water,
the head and shoulders of a very large alligator, moving s\o*~
ly towards me. I instantly stepped back, when, with a sweep
of his tail, he brushed off several of my fish. It was certainly
most providential that 1 looked up at that instant, as the mob-
ster would probably, in less than a minute, have seized and
dragged me into tlie river.

This incredible boldness of the animal disturbed me greatly*
supposing there <-nuM now l>o no reasonable safety for me /ft'-

JSaiure ajid Pr*oidem:t.

261

light, bat by keeping continually on (he watch : 1
as soon as 1 had prepared the fish* proceeded to se-
lf and effects in the best manner I could. In the first
jled my bark upon the shore, almost clear out of the
prevent their oversetting or sinking her ; after this,
cable was taken out and carried up to my camp,
i but a few yards cfT; then ranging some dry wood in
r as was the most .convenient, I cleared the ground
lit it, that there might be no impediment in my way,
' an attack in the night, either from the water or the
I discovered by this time, that this small isthmus,
emote situation and fruitfulness, was resorted to by
wolves. Having prepared myself in the best manner
charged my gun and proceeded to reconnoitre my
the adjacent grounds ; when I discovered that the
and grove, at the distance of about two hundred yards
ncampment, on the land side, were invested by a cy-
np, covered with water, which below wan* joined to the
be little lake, and above to the marshes surrounding
n ; so that I was confined to an islet exceedingly cir-
ri, and I found there was no other retreat for me, in
attack, but by either ascending one of the large oaks,
j off with my boat.

by this time dusk, and the alligators had nearly
ir roar, when. 1 was again alarmed by a tumultuous
seemed to be in my harbour, and therefore engaged
iiate attention. Returning to my camp, I found it
d, and then continued on to the extreme point of the
y, where I saw a scene, new and surprising, which
ew my senses into such a tumult, that it was some time
ould • comprehend what was the matter; however, I
unted for the prodigious assemblage of crocodiles at
which exceeded every thing of the kind I had ever

tall I express myself so as to convey an adequate
to the reader, and at the same time avoid raising
of my veracity. Should I say, that the river (in this
n shore to shore, and perhaps near half a mile above
me, appeared to be one solid bank offish, of various
hing through this narrow pass of St. Juan's into the
, on their return down the river, and that the alliga-
n such incredible numbers, and so close together from
hore, that it would have been easy to have walked
their heads, had the animals been harmless ? What
is can sufficiently declare the shocking scene that
minutes continued, whilst this mighty army ef fish

T/ie Wonders uf

were forciug the pass f During this attempt, thousands, 1 may
say hundreds of thousands of them were caught and swallowed
by the devouring alligators. I have seen an alligator take up
out of the water several great fish at a time, and just squeeie
them betwixt his jaws, while the tails of the great trout flapped
about his eyes and lips, ere he had swallowed them. The hor-
rid noise of their closing jaws, their plunging amidst the broken
bunks of fish and rising with their prey some feet upright above
the water, the floods of water and blood rushing out of their
mouths, and the clouds of vapor issuing from their wide nostrils,
were truly frightful. This scene continued at intervals during
the night, as the fish came to the pass. After this sight, shocking
and tremendous as it was, I found myself somewhat easier and
more reconciled to my situation ; being convinced that their ex-
traordinary assemblage here was owing to this annual feast of .
fish ; and that they were so well employed in their own element
that 1 had little occasion to fear their paying me a visit.

It being now almost night, I returned to my camp, where •
1 had left my fish broiling, and my kettle of rice stewing; and
having with me oil, pepper, and salt, and excellent oranges
hanging iu abundance over my head, (a valuable substitute for
vinegar,) 1 sat down and regaled myself cheerfully. Having
finished my repast, I rekindled my fire for light, and whilst
I was revising the notes of my past day's journey, I was sud-
denly roused with a loud noise behind me toward the main latad.
I sprang up on my feet, and listening, I distinctly heard some
creature wariiug in the water of the isthmus. I seized my
gun and went cautiously from my camp, directing my steps
towards the noise : when I had advanced about thirty yards,
I halted behind a coppice of orange trees, and soon perceived
two very large bears, which had made their way through the
water, and had landed in the grove, about one hundred yards
distance from me, and were advancing, towards me. I waited
until they were within thirty yards of me : they there began
to snuff and look towards my camp : 1 snapped my piece, and
it flashed, on which they both turned about and gallopped
off, plunging through the water and swamp, never halting, as
1 suppose, until they reached fast land, as 1 could hear them
leaping and plunging a long time. They did not presume to
return again, nor was I molested by any other creature, ex-
cept being occasionally awakened by the whooping of owls,
screaming of bitterns, or the wood-rats running among the
leaves.

^ The wood-rat is a very curious animal. It is not half the
site of the domestic rat: of a dark brown or black colour;
hs tail elender and shorter in proportion, and covered thinly,

JSiiturje and llro.vjdemex

209

1F1 short hair. It is singular with respect to its ingenuity
d great labour in the construction of its habitation, which is
conical pyramid about three or tour feet high, constructed
tb dry branches, which it collects with great labour and per-
verance, and piles up without any apparent order ; yet they
e so interwoven with one another, that it would take a bear
a wild-cat some time to pull one of these castles to pieces,
id allow the animals sufficient time to secure a retreat with
»ir young.

The noise of the crocodiles kept me awake the greater
it of the night; but when 1 arose in the morniug, contrary
ray expectations, there was perfect peace : very few of them
he seen, and those were asleep on the shore, Yet I was
t able to suppress my fears and apprehensions of being at-
:ked by them in future ; and, indeed, yesterday's combat
(h them, notwithstanding I came off in a manner victorious,
at least made a safe retreat, had left sufficient impression
my mind to damp my courage ; and it seemed too much for
e of my strength, being alone iu a very small boat, to en-
unter such collected danger. To pursue my voyage up the
er, and be obliged every evening to pass such dangerous de-
;s, appeared to me as perilous as running the gauntlet be-
ixt two rows of Indians armed with knives and firebrands. —
jowevcr resolved to continue my voyage one day longer, if
lossibly could with safety, and then return down the river,
mid 1 find the like difficulties to oppose. Accordingly I got
;ry thing on board, charged my gun, and set sail cautiously,
og shore.

As I passed by Battle lagoon, I began to tremble and keep
;ood look out ; when suddenly a huge alligator rushed out
the reeds, and with a tremendous roar came up, and darted
swift as an arrow under my boat, emerging upright on my
quarter, with open jaws, and belching water and smoke
it fell upon rr.e like rain in a hurricane. I laid soundly a-
ut his head with my club and beat him o/f; and after plung-
; and darting about my boat, he went off on a straight line
ough the water, seemiitply with the rapidity of lightning,
i entered the cape of the lagoon. 1 now employed my
le to the very best advantage in paddling close along shore,
t could not forbr ar looking now and then behind me, and
semly perceived one of them coming up again. The water
the river hereabouts was shoal and very clear; the monster
me up with the usual roar and menaces, and passed close by
; side of my bout, when I could distinctly see a young brood
alligators, to the number of one hundred or more, following
w her in a long train. They kept close together in a co-

The Wonders of

himn, without straggling oft' to the one side or the other; the
young appeared to be of an equal s'17.0, about fifteen inches ia
length, almost black, with pale yellow transverse waved clouds
or blotches, much like raule-snakes in colour. I now lost
sight of my enemy again.

Still keeping close along shore, on turning a point of pro-
jection of the river bank, at once I beheld a great number
of hillocks or small pyramids, resembling hay-cocks, ranged
like an encampment along the banks. They stood fifteen or
twenty yards distant from the water, on a high marsh, about
four feet perpendicular above the water. I knew them to be
the nests of the crocodile, having had a description of died'
before ; and now expected a furious and general attack, as I
saw several large crocodiles swimming abreast of these building?.
These nests being so great a curiosity to me, I was determined,
at all events, immediately to land and examine them. Ac-
cordingly, I ran my bark on shore at one of their landing-'
places, which was a sort of nick or little dock, from whkl
ascended a sloping path or road up to the edge of the meadow,
where their nests were ; most of them wi re deserted, and the
great thick whitish egg-shells lay broken and scattered upon the
ground round about them.

The nests or hillocks are of the form of an obtuse cone, four
feet high, and four or five feet in diameter at their bases; they
are constructed with mud, grass, and herbage. At first tbej
lay a floor of this kind of tempered mortar on the ground, updV.
which they deposit a layer of eggs, and upon this a stranm
of mortar seven or eight inches in thickness, and then another
layer of eggs, and in this manner one stratum upon another,
nearly to the top. I believe they commonly lay from one IB
two hundred eggs in a nest : these are hatched, f suppose, by
the heat of the sun ; and perhaps the vegetable substances mix-'
ed with the earth, being acted upon by the sun may cauietf
small degree of fermentation, and so increase tlie heat in thou
hillocks.

The ground for several acres about these nests shewed evi-
dent marks of a continual resort of alligators ; the grass M
every where beaten down, hardly a blade or straw was left
standing ; whereas, all about, at a distance, it was five or sii
feet high, and as thick as it could grow together. The female,
as I imagine, carefully watches her own nest of eggs until <
they are all hatched ; or, perhaps, while she is atteuding her
own brood, she takes under her care aud protection as many .
as she can get at one time, either from her own particular neA j
or others : but certain it is, that the young are not left to shift
fop themselves i for I have had frequent opportunities of seehtf

i female alligator leading about the shores her train of young
es, just as a lien does her brood of chickens : and she is
Dally assiduous and courageous in defcuding the young, which
Bonder her care, and providing for their subsistence: and
ten she is basking upon the warm banks, with ber brood
rand her, you may hear the young ones continually whi-
g and barking, like young puppies. I believe but few of
jrood live to the years of full growth and magnitude, as
i old feed on the young as long as they can make prey of

HQ.

I'fae alligator, when full grown, is a very large and terrible
gturt, and of prodigious strepgth and activity, and swiftness
-the water. I have seen them twenty feet in length, and
at are supposed to be twenty-two or twenty-three feet in
tgtb. Their body is as large as that of a horse ; their shape
Ktljr resembles that of a lizard, except their tail which is
t or cuneiform, being compressed on each side, and gradu-
v diminishing from the abdomen to the extremity, which,
in the whole body, is covered with horny plates of squam-
e, impenetrable when on the body of the live animal, even
a rifle ball, except rbout their head and just behind their
e-legs or arms, where it is said, they are only vulnerable. —
le head of a full grown one is about three feet, and the
Mith opens nearly the same length ; their eyes are small in
oportion, and seem sunk deep in the head, by means of the
ominency of the brows ; the nostrils are large, inflated, and
ooinent on the top, so that the head in the water resembles,
a distance, a great chunk of wood floating about. Only
eapperjaw moves, which they raise almost perpendicular,
as to form a right angle with the lower one. In the fore
irtof the upper jaw, on each side, just under the nostrils, are
•o very large, thick, strong teeth or tusks, not very sharp,
it rather the shape of a cone : these are as white as the finest
dished ivory, and are not covered by any skin or lips, and
ways in sight, which gives the creature a frightful appear-
ice; in the lower jaw are holes opposite to these teeth, to re-
ive them : when they clap their jaws together it causes a sur-
ging noise, like that which is made by forcing a heavy plank
ilh violence upon the ground, and may be heard at a great
istanre.

But what is yet more surprising to a stranger, is the incredi-
le loud and terrifying roar, which they are capable of making,
specially in the spring season, their breeding time. It most
ttembles very heavy distant thunder, not only shaking the
it' and waters, but causing the earth to tremble : and when
Kindreds and thousands are roarincr at the same time, ytfit

2W

The If vniltrs uf

can scarcely be persuaded, but that the whole globe is vio
and dangerously agitated.

An old champion, who is perhaps absolute sovereigi
little lake or lagoon, (when fifty less than himself are ol
to content themselves with swelling and roaring in little
round about,) darts forth from the reedy coverts all at
on the surface of the waters, in a right line ; at first seen
as rapid as lightning, but gradually more slowly until he a
at the centre of the lake, when he stops. He now swells
self by drawing in wind and water through his mouth, 1
causes a loud sonorous rattling in the throat for near a m
but it is immediately forced out again through his moutl
nostrils, with a loud uoise, brandishing his tail in the air
the vapour ascending from his nostrils like smoke. At
times, when swollen to an extent ready to burst, his head
tail lifted up, he spins or twirls round on the surface of the i
He acts his part like an Indian chief when rehearsing hisfe
war : and then retiring the exhibition is continued by e
who dare to step forth, and strive to eicel eacii other, to gai
attention of the favourite female.

Having gratified my curiosity at this general breeding
and nursery of crocodiles, 1 continued my voyage up the
without being greatly disturbed by them.

I had now swamps and marshes on both sides of me j
evening coming on apace, I began to look out for high
to encamp on ; but the extensive marshes seemed to liai
bounds, and it was almost dark when I found n tolerable
able place, and at last was constrained to take up with a m
strip of high shelly bank, on the west side. Great nun
of crocodiles were in sight on both shores, f ran my bar
shore at a perpendicular bank four or five feet above the
just by the roots and under the spreading limbs of a grea
oak: this appeared to have been an ancient oampinir plat
Indians and strolling adventurers, from ash heaps and old
ten fire brands and chunks, scattered about on the surface c
ground ; but was now evidently the harbour and landing
of some sovereign alligator : there led up from it a deep b
path or road, which was a convenient ascent.

I did not approve of my intended habitation from these
cumstances ; and ho sooner had I landed and moored my c
to the roots pf the tree, than I saw a huge crocodile risin
from the bottom close by me, who, when he perceived
I saw him, plunged down again under my vessel. This
termined me to be on my guard, and in time to provide ag
a troublesome night. I took out of my boat every jnovei
which I carried upon the bank ; then chose my lodging*

Nature' and Providence.

my canoe, under the spreading oak, as hereabouts only,
» ground was open and clear of high grass and bushes, and
nsequently 1 had some room to stir and look round about,
ben proceeded to collect firewood ; as for provisions, I had
red one or two barbacued trout, though the sultry heats of
? day had injured them ; yet by stewing them up afresh with
5 juice of oranges, they served well enough for my supper.

I had by this time but little relish or appetite for my
:tuals ; for constant watching at night against the attacks of
igators, stinging of musquitoes and sultry heats of the day :
gether with the fatigues of working my bark, had almost
prived me of every desire but that of ending my troubles as
eediJy a* possible. I spread my skins and blankets upon the
tMindy kindled up a little fire, and supped before it was quite
irk. The evening however was extremely pleasant ; a brisk
ol breeze sprang up, and the skies were perfectly serine, the
in twinkling with uncommon brilliancy. 1 stretched myself
Nig before my fire; having the river, my little harbour, and
e ftern of my vessel in view ; and now through fatigue and"
eariness I fell asleep.

This temporary release from cares and troubles I enjoyed
it a few moments, when I was awakened and greatly sur-
ised, by the terrifying screams of owl* in the deep swamps
wind me ; and what increased my extreme misery was the
fficulty of getting quite awake, and yet hearing at the same
ne such screaming and shouting, which increased and spread
wry way for miles around, in dreadful peals vibrating through
ie dark extensive forests, meadows and lakes. I could not
terthis surprise recover my former tranquillity of mind and
pose, during the long night ; and I believe it was happy for
£ that I was awakened, for at that moment the crocodile was
ishiug my canoe against the roots of the tree, endeavouring
» get into her for the fish, which I however prevented. An-
iier time in the night, I believe'I narrowly escaped being drag-
id into the river by him ; for, when through excessive fatigue
had fallen asleep, but was again awakened by the screaming
ri, I found the monster on the top of the bank, his head to-
ards me not above two yards distant ; when starting up and
wing my fusee well loaded, which I always kept under my
sad in the night time, he drew back and plunged into the water,
iter this, I roused up my fire, and kept a light during the re-
taining part of the night, being determined not to be caught
tpping so again : indeed the musquitoes alone would have
een abundantly sufficient to keep any creature awake thatpos-
*sed their perfect senses ; but I was overcome and stupifie'I
1th incessant watching and labour.

274

The Wonders

As soon as I discovered the first signs of daylight, 1 arose,
got all my affects and implements on board, and set sail, pro-
ceeding upwards, hoping to give the musquitoes the slip, who
were now, by the cool morning dews and breeies, driven to
their shelter and hiding places. I was mistaken however in
these conjectures, for great numbers of them, which had con-
cealed themselves in my boat, as soon as the sun rose, began to
revive, and sting me on my legs, which obliged me to land in
order to get bushes to beat them out of their quarters.

An account of the sufferings and horrid death of a JVegro slave h
one of the Southern States which sufficiently evinces the necesmUf
of the abolition of such laws as allow the enslavement of hum**

heings. — klrmtnian Magazine

I was not long since invited to dine with a Planter who lived
three miles from . To avoid the heat of the sun, I re-
solved to go on foot, sheltered in a path, leading through a
pleasant wood. I was leisurely travelling along, attentively
examining some peculiar plants which I had collected, who,
all at once, I felt the air strongly agitated, though the dty
was perfectly calm and sultry. I. immediately cast my ejtt
towards the clear ground, from which I was but a small distance,
in order to sec whether it was not occasioned by a suddei
shower; at that instant, a sound resembling a deep rough
voice, uttered, as I thought, a few inarticulate monosyllable*.
Alarmed and surprised, I precipitately looked all around, whs
I perceived at about six rods distance, something resembling a
cage, suspended to the limb of a tree ; all the branches rf
which appeared covered with large birds of prey, fluttering
about and anxiously endeavouring to perch on the cage. Ac-
tuated by an involuntary motion of my hands, more than by
any design of my mind, I fired at them ; they all flew to*
short distance with a most hideous noise : when, horrid to
think, and painful to repeat, I perceived a Negro suspended in
a cage, and left to expire ! I shudder when I recollect that the
birds had already picked out his eyes ; his cheek bones were
bare ; his arms had been attacked in several places, and his
body seemed covered with a multitude of wounds. From the
edges of the hollow sockets, and the lacerations with which he
was disfigured, the blood slowly dropped, and tinged the ground
beneath. No sooner wera the birds flown, than swarms of in-
sects covered the body of this unfortunate wretch, eager to feed
.in h'n manffled flesh, and drink his blood. I found myself in-

JVaturt kni Providence. 27. i

urested by the power of affright and terror ; my nerves
nvulsed ; I trembled ; 1 stood motionless, iuvoluuta-
empiatinp the fate of this Negro in all its dismal lati-

iving spectre, though deprived of his eyes, could dis-
ear ; and in his uncouth dialect begged me to give
e water to allay his thirst. Humanity herself would
oiled back with horror ; she would have balanced,
to lessen such reliefless distress, or mercifully with one
md this dreadful scene of agonizing torture ! Had I had
my gun, I certainly should have dispatched him, but
nyself unable to perform so kind an office, I sought,
rembling to relieve him as well as I could. A shell
ced to a pole, which had been used by some negroes.
i itself to me ; I filled it with water, and with trembling
guided it to the quivering lips of the wretched sufferer,
y this irresistible power of thirst, he endeavoured to
as he instinctively guessed its approach, by the noise
in passing through the bars of the cage. " Tanki yout
in, tanki you, puti some poison, and givi me." — How
'e you been hanging there ? I asked him. — ' Two days
no die ; the birds, the birds, aah me !" Oppressed with
is which this shocking spectacle afforded me, I muster-
jth enough to pass away, and soon reached the house
intended to dine. There I heard that the reason for
e's being thus punished, was ou account of his having
e overseer of the plantation. They told me that the
self-preservation rendered such executions necessary,
sorted the doctrine of slavery with the arguments gen-
ade use of to justify the practice ; with the repetition
1 I shall not trouble the reader.

ACCOUNT OF INFIDELS.

rticvlars of the lives and deaths of several Infidels, as
ire, Rousseau, D'Alembert, Diderot% Condorcet9 'Humus
, Antitheus, fyc.

tat the old Dragon's tail has not so wide a swing;
Is when the sixteenth Lewis was a Galic King.

[Meth. Mag.— Eng.]

lot, perhaps, generally known, that Voltaire, who hi the
f Iris life, distinguished himself above all othrts in tlie*

The l\ vaii.* vl

propagation of infidelity, visited England, at an early age, aud
received marks of attention from George the first, and several
of the nobility, which he did not deserve. The present King
of Great Britain, however, to his honour be it spoken, hat ne-
ver countenanced the Infidels of France ; and to his Majesty's
religious disposition it may be owing, under God, that, the fag-
lish nation now enjoy more civil liberty, more real Christianity
and consequently more happiness, than any other nation in Europe.

When Voltaire was in England, he determined to dedicate
his life to the vile project of destroying Christianity ; and on
his return to Paris, he was so full of his design, and so sangsme
in his hopes of accomplishing it, that when M . Herault, the
Lieutenant of the Police, reproached him with his wickedness,
and said to him, " You may do or write what you please, yon
will never be able to destroy the Christian religion," Voltaire
answered without hesitation, " That is what we shall see."—
And with insufferable arrogance, he would exclaim, " I am wea-
-1 rv of hearing people repeat that twelve men have been safi-
" cient to establish Christianity. I will prove that one nan
" may suffice to destroy it."*

His correspondence with the famous Frederic King of Prus-
sia deserves attention in this view.

In August 1759, in a letter to the King he says, " I am afraid
" that you want leisure at the close of the campaign, and dm
" you are so occupied in cudgelling the Arabians, Bulgarians, fcc
" that you have not time to apply yourself to Philosophy, sod ,
" to the destruction of the wretch : [meaning the religion of Je-
t; sns Christ ] / take the liberty, dying, to recommend by unU,di
" wretch ttryour majesty. She is more your enemy than yoa
" believe. Her Virgin and her Fanatic are indeed something %
" but this Virgin aud this Fanatic will not reform the west •
k' whereas Frederic was born to enlighten the tiw>r7rf.,,f

Various means were used by these and other Infidels, to ac-
complish their purpose of destroying Christianity. The compi-
lation of the famous dictionary called the Encyclopedia, furnish-
ed them with a favourable opportunity of disseminating their
principles. D'Alembert considered it as the grand means
enlightening mankind, and of crushing the wretch. In tha*
publication every art was exhausted to diffuse the poison of in-
fidelity as widely as possible, but yet in such a way as not to ex-
cite suspicion. Rayoal, a man who had been expelled froin tbe
order of Jesuits lor his impiety, was the principal writer on di-
vinity employed in it. In order that the Encyclopaedia might be
generally read, it was held up to the worfd as the treasury

* VuIp Voltaire, **dit, dt» KpII.
■ W.»rU of fhf* K. ol I'm*-!*

\aturt and Provider .

2?T

Liiowledgc of every kind. Great cunning was used in those ar-
icles in which the doctrines of religion were discussed ; and it
ras principally by the references which were given to other ar-
icles, that the reader was led to an acquaintance with the stores
if deism aud atheism which were prepared for him. Voltaire,
vhen expressing his wishes that a philosophical work might be
»nblished, that should forever crush the wretch, says, u I place
all my hopes in the Encyclopedia"*

The Advocate General of the Parliament of Paris accused
die authors of the Encyclopedia of being deists, atheists, corrup-
« of rebels against the king ; and the parliament condemned
be publication f But afterwards the Infidels obtained the
mratenance of the ministers of state, and the work acquired an
klmost unbounded circulation.

Europe was inundated with the books which were fabricated
>y these men against religion, under the various title of Systems*
Etomances, and Histories. In those publications the favourite
principle of Voltaire was constantly kept in view, " Strike, but
vomceal the hand" Posthumous works were invented for deceas-
ed writers. Sketches were prepared by one person, and filled
up by another, and impiety was insinuated in every form that
could make it palatable or popular : " Always endeavour," says
Voltaire to D'Alembert, " to crush the wretch." 1 only ask
"five or six hon mots, [witty sayings, jests,] <t day, and that will
" be enough. He will never recover it. Laugh, Democritus,
"and make me laugh, and the sages shall triumph."

Great pains were taken by these Infidels to spread their pub-
lications in different nations. Voltaire says to the king of Prus-
sia, " Were I not so old, and had I health, I would quit, without
" regret, the house which I have buiJt, to go and dedicate, with
u two or three philosophers, the remainder of my life, under
111 your protection, to the printing of a few useful books. But,
*• Sire, cannot you, without exposing yourself, have some of the
u Berlin booksellers encouraged to reprint them, and to distribute
11 them throughout Europe, at a price low enough to ensure their
u sale ?"J Frederic answered, " You may make use of our
11 printers as you please. They enjoy perfect liberty ; and as
"they are connected with those of Holland, France, and Ger-
" many, I have no doubt but that they have the means of con-
11 veying books whithersoever they may think proper."^

The King of Prussia often solicited Voltaire for new publica-
tions against Christianity, and was very diligent in spreading
several impious books of his own writing. " Good gentlemen
" philosophers," says Frederic to Voltaire, " exert your whole

* Letter to Damilavilltt. + Memior* of Volfairt .

A

278

The Wonders of

»* force. Combat with error. Heap argument on argument, to
" destroy the wretch."

Voltaire asserted, that in Calvin's own town, (Geneva) there
were but a few beggarly fellows who believed in the cohsubstan-
tial, i. e. in Jesus Christ ; and he exulted in the approaching fall
of the Church of England, whilst he extolled the English truth,
meaning the impieties of Hume. When writing to D'Alerabert
in the year 1763, he said, " I fear that you are not sufficiently
" zealous. You bury your talents. You only contemn whilst
" you should abhor and destroy the monster. Could not yon
" crush him in your pages ? It was given to Meleager to kill the
" boar ; hurl the javelin, but hide your head. Comfort me it
" my old age"

- In a few years afterwards, he says to D'Alembert, " Both you
" and Damilaville must be well pleased to see the contempt in-
" to which the wretch is fallen, amongst the better sort of peo-
" pie throughout Europe. That is what we wished for, and all
" that was necessary. We never pretended to enlighten the
" shoe-makers and house maids. We leave them to the Apos-
" ties.* But several of the philosophers, were afterwards of
a different opinion, and in order to corrupt the minds of the low-
er classes of people, they employed pedlars, to: sell at low pri-
ces, in the country towns, the books which were written against
religion ; and the village schoolmasters were also engaged in the
same infamous work.

In this war against Christianity, the French Infidels consider-
ed the Socinians as their worthy allies. They knew that Soci-
nianism led directly to Deism, and that, in fact, many of those
persons who called themselves Socinians, were already Deists.
Hence, Voltaire says to the King of Prussia, on the Sth of No-
vember 1773, " What vexes me is, that you do not establish a
" Socinian church, after having appointed sever.il for the Jesuits.
"There are Socinians still to be met with in Poland ; they swarm
"in England, and *ve have some of them in Switzerland. Juli-
"an would certainly have favoured them. They hate that which
"he hated; they despise that which he despised; and they like
"him are worthy men."f

These pretended philosophers were guilty of every species
of hypocrisy and falsehood, which could in the least tend to the
accomplishment of their purposes. Voltaire, when writing to
D'Argenial, says, "If I had an hundred thousand men, I know
"what 1 would do with them, but as 1 have them not, I u ill re-
"cetre the Sacrament at Easter, and you may call me hypocrite
"as much as you please."

- F.<>tt*»r of <h* 2ml S^t. 1788. + \\7,rk« »f (|„- K. of

Nature and Providence* 2i$

re was the author of the Philosophical Dictionary; but
Dt hesitate to order his associates to deny that he had
d in that publication. "I know not," says he, " by
ladness people so obstinately believe me to be the au-
' the Philosophical Dictionary. The greatest service
u can render me is to declare, by your share in para-
lat I have no hand in that hellish work. It is he, they
is his style, his manner. Ah, my brethren, what fatal
ge ; on the contrary, you shall cry out, in the public
it is not he, — for the monstkr must be pierced by an
»d invisible hands, and fall beneath a thousand repeat-

Voltaire had been banished for many years, on account
ickedness, permission was obtained for his return to Pa*
? was now in his eighty-fourth year, aud it was agreed
laws should be silent on his recal. This was all that
led for. — The day of his arrival in Paris was a day of
. He was received amidst the greatest acclamations,
er he went, a crowd of adepts followed him, and the
lies celebrated his arrival in the Louvre, the palace of
p. The theatres decreed crowns to this impious chief,
itrical entertainments in honour of him, rapidly succeed-
other. In the midst of these coronations and acclama- .
; exclaimed, " You wish then to make me expire with

n the midst of his triumph, he was attacked by a violent
lage, which ended in his death. D'Alembert, Diderot,
rmontel, hastened to his support in his last moments; but
re only witnesses of his and their own ignominy. Rage,
, reproach, and blasphemy accompanied and character-
long agony of the dying atheist. The dreadful circum-
of his death will not be denied by his companions in im-
Not one of the sophisters has ever dared to mention any
'en of resolution or tranquillity by this chief of infidels,
the space of the three months which elapsed from the
len he was crowned at the theatre, to his decease,
ng his illness, he sent for a priest, and confessed to him.f
t what he did should be deemed a recantation of his prin-
the priest was not suffered to repeat his visits. D'AJem-
iderot, and about twenty other infidels surrounded their
Minimally ; but he often cursed them, and exclaimed,
e, it is you that have brought me to my present state,
ne, I could have done without you all, but you could not
without me ; and what a wretched glory have you pro-

rtoIVAItmbrrt.

- Vnhai-''* t\rr »v- ['nr\ f.f the 'Jpri r! Man h I7TU, vsnr.j iry hiimrh'

■ T I

jau Tlx Winders of

" cured me." He would then alternately supplicate and bias*
pheme God, and cry out, 44 Oh Chirst, Oh Jesus Christ !" and
complain that he was abandoned by God and man.

The time was now come when he was to appear before the
tribunal of that God whom he had blasphemed ; and his physi-
cians, struck with astonishment, declared that his death was
dreadful indeed. The Mareschal de Richelieu was not able to
bear the sight, and fled from the bedside; and M. Tronchin de-
clared that the furies of Orestes could give but a faint idea of
the horrors of Voltaire. — Thus died that wretched man on tbf
30th day of May 1778 *

Another author, the Rev. Lewis Hughes, B. D.'in a pamph-
let published in 1799, confirms the preceding account of the
last end of this miserable man.

"Amidst the increase of an admiring capital, says he, (allud-
ing to the praise he received in Paris, as related above,) Voltaire
. ' felt the chill stroke, that annouueed the near and awful period of
this flattering scene. Providence allowed to him a duration of
np usual length, to display the force of truth, and give proofs of
returning conscience. For three months, under the immediate
reflections of a death-bed, he exhibited a state of horror, that
astonished and dismayed the firm mind of Mareschal Richelieu,
and shook even the fortitude of the medical attendants, men fa-
miliarized with death in all its form, and hardened against the
infirmities of decaying nature. At his own particular request he
was attended by a priest, Abbe Gaultier, a man eminent for learn- j
ing, candour and piety ; to whom he made his confession with j
an appearance of fervent piety ; retracted his former principle*) j
and signed his recantation in due form. And so anxious did he j
shew himself, to have this solemn injunction of the church eie* j
cuted in an exceptionable manner, that he sent the instrument ;
of his recantation by the Abbe Gaultier to the Arch-BishopoT
Paris, for the inspection of the Metropolitan, and for a public
memorial of his penitence, delivered thus to the highest ecclesi-
astical authority in the realm. Could he have devised a more
solemn mode of announcing his return to the church ; and of
presenting the world with an aw'ful lesson to,check the presump-
tion, and to mortify the pride of future infidels ? What bosom
so sensible to the rendings of the human heart, from whatever
cause originating, as not to enter on such occasion into its dis-
tresses with emotions of pity and solitude ? This was a cod-
solation withheld from Voltaire, in the agony of his last mo-
ments. .

" D'Abmbert and Diderot surrounded his death-bed, and shut

* This Hccountnf tin* •l«»ath of Voltaire, mul thr sut»cqtirnt account* of ifo* «?t»,h n"
1 1'.Vnnbtt'T au&Pifir mt. %n: . # n on ihi ,-i:i»iontv of M Bamml.

Nature and Providence.

281

e door against the return of Abb£ Gaultier, with his recantation
►proved by the Arch-Bishop. To describe the feelings of the
ring Infidel from this moment, exceeds the power of eloquence ;
id the scene, if represented, would overpower the firmness of
ifnanity ! To the officious counsels of these his old associates,
& replied with keen invectives, reproaching their uncharitable
isidrity ; which, under his present insupportable weight of mis-
ry, excluded hi in further from all means of consolation in a
effcr prospect. He died in alternate paroxyms of devotion,
iff impious rage : blaspheming his Creator, and supplicating
in for mercy."

After the death of Voltaire, D'Alembert was proclaimed the
fief of the Infidel Association, and his arts proved more than a
ccedaneum to the genius of his predecessor. He and Diderot
*d to attack Christianity, in debates in the different Coffee-
idses in Paris. Diderot was in general the assailant and
^Alembert the defendant. The attack was made in a confident
id high tone,* and the reply was weak and insincere, and not
tended as a defence of Christianity. The idle Parisians, who
Blotted to those places, listened and admired, and sometimes
xrit part in those sham disputations. Diderot resumed and
fated the argument, and D'Alembe t soon owned that the ob-
scdons were unaiis\v< ruble, and then withdrew as if ashamed
nd silenced. The two friends would afterwards meet together
D fee litate each other on the success of their scheme. When
Kderot was charged with p opagating Atheism in those dis-
ites, he answered, 41 It is true, I am an atheist, and I glory
itr.w*

The Empress of Russia had heard much of Diderot, and she
Bit for him to Petersburg!!. But he conducted himself in such
n extraordinary manner, that she found it necessary to send him
ack to Paris. He however comforted himself in his disgrace
Tth the idea that the Russians were not vet ripe for the sublim-
J of hi* philosophy. He set >fl' lor f ans in a morniug gown,
rhh a cap on his heid ; and when he passed through any town
is footmen marched before him, and cried out to the gazing
nltitude, *• // is M. Did i rot that great man that passes !"f

The secret committee of education at Paris, the country con-
femfcles, and the correspondence with the village schoolmasters
originated with D'Alembcrt, and he continued to direct the
•orks of the secret society, in the propagation of impiety, until
k was called to appear before the God who had Already judged
Voltaire. He died in November 17S3, five years after his pa-
toon. Lest remorse should drive him to recantation, Condorcct

t P-'? Homme?- iP'i^trr *, r«r F rl»«r<

282

'Flit Wonders of

undertook to render him inaccessible, to all whom might avail
themselves of any respect which might be shewn to religion.

When the Rector of St. Germain's presented himself at the
place of residence of D'Alembert, Condorcet ran to the door,
and would not allow him to enter. D'Alembert felt remo.se,
as well as Voltaire, and was on the point of sending for a minis-
ter of that Christ against whom he had also conspired. But Con-
dorcet ferociously combated this last wish of the dying sophii-
ter, and he gloried in having forced him to expire in impenitence.
When Condorcet announced the death of D'Alembert, and was
relating the circumstances of it, he did not blush to add, "Had
I not been there, he would have flinched aho."

When Diderot was in his last illness, a young man who dressed
his wounds, asked him, whether he was certain that his philoso-
phy had not left him a soul to save ? " It is impossible for me,"
said the young man, " not to warn you, my benefactor, to avoid
the eternal misfortune which awaits you."

Diderot heard him with attention, and with tears thanked hm
for the concern which he had shewn for him. But the Infideb
would have thought themselves dishonoured by the dereliction of
so important an' associate. They persuaded him that he was im-
posed upon, that his health would be restored immediately by
the country air. He therefore consented to leave Paris, and the
men who thus became possessed of his person, watched him till
he expired, and then asserted that he died calmly and without
remorse.

44 Here then," says the Rev. Mr. Hughes 44 may the religiovi,
and also the philosophical mind, behold in the destiny of theft
men, a signal display of the Divine Providence. The Ah*
honour and imaginary interests of the sect required, that the re-
monstrances of conscience hi each dying penitent should besti*
fled, without any consideration of tenderness for the feelings of
the unhappy individual; a tenderness, to which the weakest even
of prejudices, are entitled to in that solemn hour. Thus did they
become victims to the very leading principles of their system, tiA
successively experience in their last moments, the delusion of
those artifices, which it had been the great object of their live?,
to inculcate on their disciples.

And what is the result? The world, observing these philoso-
phers with an inquisitive eye, has had full evidence of their in-
firmity, and must either snspect the sincerity of their professions!
or else condemn principles found from experience so ineffectn*'
for the support of their constancy, under those circumstances
which usually exhibit an enlightened mind, in its greatest ener-
gy of character. This consideration alone must preclude the
necessity of argument on the subject, unless we can admit t?,p

Nature and Providence*

28J

pretentions of a philosophy, which both degrades man, and leaves
him helpless and disconsolate, in the most solemn moment of
his temporal existence."

The dissolute and impious Jean Jaques Rousseau was for a
time united with these in6dels, and when he quarrelled with
them, and separated from them, it was only to attack Christiani-
ty in his own way. He tells us, that very early in his life he
was a glutton and a liar, that he stole almost every thing but
aooey. When he became a footman, he continued his practice
0t stealing, and, when stolen goods were found upon him, he
swore that they were given to him by a maid servant, and the
innocent girl was dismissed from her place in disgrace. But this
vile man is constantly talking about virtue, and says of himself
that he was one of the most virtuous of men. He would extol
th£ charms of virtue, and at the same time extol a prostitute of
die name of Warrens, with whom he cohabited. He would talk
of fail chaste morals at the time when he published his indecent
wickedness. During a great part of his life, he was a vicious '
vagabond.— In his impudent Confessions, he publishes in his old
age the dissolute scenes of his youth, and declares to the world,
that his natural children were banished to an hospital as soon
at they were born, and that the fear of seeing them again made

. Um inexorable to the entreaties of those who would have pro-

1 Tided for their education.

i This is the man who undertakes to recommend to the world
I anew system of education. — As was the man, such is his system

of education. It is consistent with his infidelity and ignorance
i and is calculated only to make a child a deist or an atheist. It
i ; boot to be expected that a profligate infidel would recommend a
» Christian education. To form his "Man of A aft/re," he says,
x "Let a child do nothing merely because he is bid: Nothing is

"good for him which he cannot perceive to be so." And with
. regard to religion, he says, " I foresee how much my readers
'* "will be surprised to find, that I have attended my pupil thro9

"the whole first age of life without once speaking to him of re-
?fc "ligion. He hardly knows at fifteen years of age, whether or

"not he has a soul ; and perhaps it will not be time to inform him
1 %lof it when he is eighteen."*
Rl *The daughter of the celebrated Ncckar, the Baroness de ♦ael,

who was a profound admirer of Rousseau, asserts that he ended

kit life by suicide. f Her information, it seems", came from a
& Geuevese who lived with him. A few days previous to his death,

&

fl* • EmiUm. It in not to lw experti-d thru, ihut the children of thos«» paretiti who have

« j ■4»pt#-d Kt>us«<W» plan of ediiratio it *\um\j know nny thing of Religion. IVy do n<»P

" ^n«w th«% have ton I*.
1 * tt»iroi»o*« df St» :ilt on the work" of Rotissi-ju, Sit:.

2*4

The Wonders of

it is represented that he was much afflicted by the bad conduct
of the woman who lived with him, and who bore his name, and
that from this circumstance, added to his habitual melancholy,
and the extreme increase of his terrors, it is not doubted, that
be voluntarily terminated his existence. But another of his fe-
male admirers contradicts this account, and says thatjte died a
natural death.

The pi eat and learned Dr. Samuel Johnson gives his opinion
of this man in veiy plain lautrunire. In a conversation with
Mr. Boswell, Dr. Johnson said, "It seems, Sir, yoirtiave kept
hi very good company abroad, Rousseau and Wilkes !" Bos-
well. ''My dear Sir, \ou don't call Rousseau bad company.
''Do you really think him a bad man ?" Johnson. "Sir, V
"you are talking jestingly of this, 1 don't talk with you. If yon
"mean to be serious, I think him one of the worst of men; a
"rascal who ought to be hunted out of Society, as he has been.
"Three or four nation* have expelled him ; and it is a shame
"that he is protected in this country." Boswkll. " I don'tde-
"ny, Sir, but that his Novel may, perhaps, do harm; hut I can*
"not think his intention was bad."' Johnson. "Sir, that will
"not do. \W cannot prove any man's intention to be bad.
"You may shoot a man thro9 the head, and say you intended
"to miss him; but the Judge will order you to be hangedr Al
"alledged ,want of intention when evil is committed, will not be
"allowed in a court of Justice. Rousseau, Sir, is a very bid
"man, I would sooner. give a sentence for his transportation, than
" that of any felon who has gone from the Old Bailey these ma-
" uy years. Yes, I should like to have him work in theplanta-
" tions." Boswf.ll. " Sir, do yon think him as bad a man
"Voltaire i" Johnson. " Why, Sir, it is difficult to settle it**
" proportion of iniquity between them."*

It is to be observed, that these Infidels aud their successor**
laboured incessantly to lead the French nation to apostacy, ev^fU
from the profession of Christianity.f The proofs of their con*
duct are deduced from their own writings, anil are indisputable*
Few christians in modern times, have shewn a zeal in the sup"

* Bcftwell** Life of Johnson, vol 2 4N> p 273

f In (lie vcar 1792, the r'renrh nation apom«hrd r imtsti avtv and in the year fo\"
lowing. Good, the revolutionary bishop of Tar is, within* infvrior clorgy, made a fo*~
inai abjuration of Clnvtianity nt ihr bar of the Convention. He thiew himself, f**
s:>id, on the in* rev of the nation for having so lonir doceiv« d them with the absurdity*
of the impostor Church, and as.«nrtd them that in futuie he would acknowledge no oth*1,
deity tl.un rcawm. iiebeit, tho atix i.-t, kept a ►trumpet of tin- name Mormoro, wl**
was inaugurated the godof8* of he a*, on She was fan'nntical'v dre*«ed, and letf
the head of a ^rand proc^-iou to the Church of Notre Darnr. tno Cathedral of P*H*«
where the was solemnly placed on a throne of turf ard fl wers, and Gobtt and the r** •
of the revolutionary clergy, burnt incense on an ?dtnr before her. In the samr year, tnj
pupils of a new republican whoul, appeared nt the bar of the Convention, and "dcflar^f1
that they detected (iod. Thev wen- applauded by th" prepidiiit of the Coimwtioa, »c*
mined to the honours of the sitting, and receives] the fraternal kiss-

Nature and Providence.

port of Christianity, equal to the zeal of the French philoso*
phexs in their attempt to destroy it. With too many persons
evenjn England, as well as in other nations, Christianity is a
mere name, the designation only of part of the inhabitants of
the world; and its vital influence in changing the dispositions,
and reforming the morals of men, is neglected, or unknown.

lb many of the nations on the continent, several \eai-* before
the French Revolution, gross supcrhiitiou had ueai \\ eradica-
ted genuine Christianity, ami a set of pretended philosophers
had arisen, who not only attacked, and exposed with great suc-
cess, the frauds of the Roman Catholic religion, but declared
themselves to be Deists, and impugned all revelation, or avow-
ed themselves to be Atheists, and denied the brine? of God. In
England, those men have found some abettors, who, if they are
lew open than formerly in avowing their sentiments, and less
active in distributing the publications which contain them, are
restrained only by those wholesome laws which have been enac-
ted, " for the punishment of wickedness and vice, and for the
"maintenance of true religion and virtue." .

But let the zeal which has been manifested by wicked men,
m the propagation of Infidelity, excite those who know the
worth of Christianity, to do all in their power, by word and
deed, to defend and spread its truths. Christianity is the reve-
lation of the will of God to man, and its truths are defensible
on the most solid ground of argumentation.
Hie divine origin of the Christian revelation, was attested
facts which were attended with the clearest evidence. Those
&ct8 were numerous, and were done publicly, and great num-
Ifcra both of Jews and Heathens, who had the best opportunities .
°f examining them, were so fully convinced of the truth of them
that they were brought to receive Jesus Christ as their Saviour
Lord. The accounts of those facts were published in the
age in which these facts were done, and by persons that
*ei*e perfectly acquainted with the things which they related.
And the facts were of such a nature, that the pei^ohs who were
eJ^ witnesses to them, could not be deceived in them, if they had
w**ir senses. Nor had those persons any temptation or inter-*
ts*9 to induce them to endeavour to impose upon other false ac-
counts of those facts, if it had been possible for them to have
Published false accounts of them without detection ; and the re-
gion which was confirmed by those facts, was directly contra-
ry to the opinions and prejudices of the persons themselves who
related those facts, and which opinions and prejudices, nothing
ton the evidence of undoubted truth and plain fact could have
^rcome.

The books of the New-Testament were immediately received

280

The Wonders of

with great veneration, in the very age in which they were firn
written and published ; and from that time, were regarded as*f
undoubted truth, and of divine authority. They were toon
spread far and wide, read in the public assemblies of Christians,
and translated into various languages. They have been con-
stantly quoted by numerous writers in every age since they were
first published, and many of those writers have transcribed large
portions of them into their works, by which it incontestibly ap-
pears, that the scriptures of the New-Testament always con-
tained the same doctrines, and the same accounts of facts, that
are now found in them. It never could be in the power of any
sect, or party of men, to have destroyed, or corrupted all the
copies, or to have altered the scheme of religion, or the accounts
of facts recorded in the New Testament. And it is evident that
uo such alterations have been made, as religion appears in the
Tew Testament in its primitive simplicity, as it appeared in the
first age of the Christian church, and without any of the corrup-
tions which have been mixed with it in latter ages.*

It is uo defence of Infidelity to assert, that the Christian rere- j
lation contains doctrines which are attended with difficulties that
we cannot account for. and which relate to things that we cannot
comprehend. There are numerous things both in religion and
philosophy, which the wisest of men have thought it reasonable
to believe, although they could not answer every objection
which was brought against them The works and ways of in
infinite God, must be, in numberless instances, infinitely beyond
the comprehension of a finite being like man. To think other-
wise, would be, in fact, to suppose that man is equal to God in
intelligence, and therefore capable'of sitting in judgment on the
proceedings of the Almighty Omniscient God, who governs the
Universe.

There is nothing more certain than eternity ; but it is impos-
sible for man 'to fofm a distinct idea of it. The immensity of
the Supreme Beii>;r is beyond all doubt ; but the human mind
cannot explain if. -Great wisdom and design are manifested is
the frame of the Universe and yet there are many things in the
works of God, for which man cannot possibly account. The
goodness of God is estobli>heo! by the strongest proofs ; but
there are many appearances which, from our limited views of
the plan of the divine administration, we cannot reconcile with
goodness. It is, however an admitted principle in philosophy,
that when a fact is proved by proper evidence it ought not to be
rejected because it may be attended with difficulties which *e

* Pit*. I^and W ii'iv oi* Ik Mf'ca] Wrii. ;c

AVtw and Providence. 29?

i

lot how to solve. And why should not this principle be
td in Christianity ?

lo not men reject the gospel, because they have an aversion
urity of heart and life which its doctrines require ? TAw-is
damnation, says Christ, that light is come into the world \
i loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds are

it, pain's have been taken by some persons, to banish the
God from amongst us — to confound the moral differences
gs — to deprive good men of the blessed hope of imraor-
ind to free bad men from the fears of future punishment*
preposterous zeal for Infidelity is a very singular pheno-
. his absolutely unaccountable, on the principles of good
ir sound policy, that any man should cooly take pains to set
nen loose from the restraints of religion and conscience.
», as far as is in his power, to. encourage men to gratify
assions without control, and to introduce universal con-
and misery into the world

open attacks which have been made on religion, by men
retend to be very snjgracious, have greatly increased pro-
ss among the lower ranks of society. A sober and indus-
populace, is the strength, the riches, and the glory of a
: But when those who should be the labouring class in
% sink into irreligion and vice, they are prepared for every
f wickedness and disorder. From their rank and educa-
liey have but little regard to the appearance of honour and
:y, and if they have cast off the ties of religion, and are
oned to their own unrestrained passions, they are capable
ry enormity.

s is a matter in which the interests of the community
?ry nearly concerned. When once the corruptions of
, or Atheism have spread through the community, 'public
is perverted, and the very foundation of public happiness
royed. In proportion as dissoluteness of manners prevails,
t industry is neglected, trade consequently de cays, fraud
olence increase, and all the bands that hold society together
danger of being dissolved. Machiavel himself has decided,
free government cannot lonpr be maintained, when once
pie are become generally corrupt. All the true friends,
ore, to public order and liberty, must wish that virtue may
sh, and that the vicious appetites of men may be restrained,
be Christian Religion only can effect this. If the influence
igion be remo ed from the minds of men, civil laws will
nid utterly ineffectual for the preservation of order in soct-
tnd universal anarchy must ensue.

23$ The Wonders of

•t

Infidelity has already overthrown one of the greatest king-
doms in Europe, :uid in many inferior states, both Protestant and
Catholic, have been involved in the spreading ruin. "Princes
hold their dominions by the influence of the Christianity which
is left a;nongst us ; and if Christianity be destroyed, their gov-
ernments must fall like houses which are built on "the sand."
Christianity is the foundation and strength of all the good govern-
ments in the world, h is the source of individual and social
happiness in time, and the ground of all our hopes of happiness
in eternity.

Cumberland, gives ns a most mournful tale concerning a gen-
tleman of infidel principles. " 1 remember him in the height of
his fame, the hero of his party ; no man so caressed, followed
and applauded : he was a little loose, his friends would own, ia
his moral character, but then he was the honestest fellow in the
world ; it was not to be denied, that he was rather free in his no-
tions, but then he was the best creature living. I have seen meo
of the gravest characters wink at I lis sallies ; because he was so
pleasant and so well bred, it was impossible to be angry with
him. Every thine: went well with him, and Antitheus seemed
to beat the summit, of human prosperity, when he was suddenly
seized with the most alar: v.ng sympM n$ : he was at his coun-
try house, and which had rarely happened to him, at that time
alone: wife or family he had none, and out of the multitude of
his friends no one happened to be nenr him at the moment of
his attack. A neighbouring physician was called out of bed
in the night to come to him with all haste in this extremity: be
found him sitting up in his bed supported by pillows, his coun-
tenance full of horror his breath struggling as in the article of
death, his pulse intermitting, and at times beating with such ra-
pidity as could hardly be counted. Antitheus dismissed the at-
tendants he had about him, and eagerly demanded of the physi-
cian, if he thought liiin in d inner : the phtsician answered that
he must fairly tell him he was in imminent danger. How to1-
how so ! do you think me dying 9 — He was sorry to say, the
symptom* indicated A ath — Impossible. I you must not let**
die; I dare, not die: O doctor! save me if you can. — Your sit-
uation, sir, is such, that it is not in mine, or any other man's j
art, to save you ; and I think 1 should not do my duly, if I ga^ !
you any false hopes in these moments, which, if I am not mis- 1
taken, will not more than suffice for any worldly or other con-
cerns, which you may have upon your mind to settle. Mytnind
is full of horror, and I am incapable of preparing if for Ati>ti>*
He now fell into an agony, accompanied with a shower of tears;
a cordial was administered, and he revived in a degree ; un**1
Kirninsr to the physician, who had hi? lingers upon his pulse

%> . J\aiure and Frtvidenvc- 28Q

eagerly demanded of him if he did not see that blood upou the
fcei curtain of his bed. There was none to be seen, the physi-
cian assured him, it was nothing but a vapour of his fancy.
I see it plainly, in the shape of a human hand: I have been visi*
ted with a tremendous apparition. As I was lying sleepless in my
bed this nighty I took up a letter of a deceased friend} to dissipate
certain thoughts that made me uneasy : I believed him to be a
great philosopher, and was converted to his opinions : persuaded
Oykis arguments and my oivn experience, that the disorderly af-
fairs of this evU world would not be administered by any wise,
just or provident being. I had brought myself to think that no
such being could exist, and that a life produced by chance, must
terminate in annihilation : this is the reasoning of that letter, and
such were the thoughts I was resolving in my mind, when the ap-
parition of my dear friend presented itself before me ; and un-
folding the curtains of my bed, stood at my feet, looking earnest-
ly upon me for a considerable space of time. My heart sunk
within me; for his face was ghastly, full of horror, with an ex-
pression of such an anguish as lean never describe ; his eyrs were
fixed upon me, and at length with a mournful motion of his head —
Alas, alas ! he cried, we are in a fatal error ! — and taking hold
of the curtains with his hand, shook them violently and disappear-
ed.—This I protest to you, I both saw and heard ; and look !
zchere the print of his hand is left in blood upon the curtains!"

Antitheus survived the relation of this vision very few hours,
and died delirious in great agonies.

What a forsaken and disconsolate creature is man, without
bts God and Saviour !

THOMAS PAINE.
[Meth. Mag.]

This unhappy man is well known to have been one of the
jnost malignant enemies of Christianity. He was an avowed
^fidel in principle, and an open profligate in practice. He
"ved despised by the wise and good, and, like many other infi-
lls, died apparently full of dread of the future ; a stranger to
toat repentance which is unto life.

The following account of the concluding scenes of his life,
is from the pen of Dr. Manley, a respectable physician, who at-
knded him in his last illness.

<c During the latter part of his life, though his conversation
*** equivocal, his conduct was singular. He would not be left

29U TJ& IVoMte'rs of

alone night or day ; be not only required to have some ptnou
with him ; but he must see that he or she was there, and Would
not allow his curtains to be closed at any time ; atid if, as it
would sometimes unavoidably happen, that he was left alone,
he would scream and halloo until some person came to him.
When relief from pain would admit, he would seem thoughtful
and contemplative, his eyes generally closed, and his hands fold-
ed on his breast, although he never slept without the assistance
of an anodyne. There was something remarkable in his con-
duct at this time, which comprises about two weeks before hi*
death, particularly when we reflect that Thomas Paine was the
author of the Age of Reason. He would call out during Us
paroxibm of distress, without intermission, c O Lord help me/
God help me !— Jesus Christ help me! — O Lord help me/ &c.
repeating the same expressions without the least variation, in a
tone that would alarm the house. It was this conduct, thai in- <
duced me to think that he had abandoned his former opinions ; ,
and I was more inclined to that belief when I understood from ;
his nurse, who is a very serious, and I believe a pious woman,
that he would occasionally inquire, on seeing her engaged with
a book, what she was reading ; and being answered, and at the
same time being asked whether she should read aloud, he assen-
ted, and would appear to give particular attention. I took oc-
casion during the night of the 5th and 6th of June, to test the
strength of his opinions respecting revelation. 1 purposely
made him a very late visit ; it was a time which seemed to suit
my errand, it was midnight. He was in great distress, constant*
ly exclaiming in the words above mentioned; when I addres-
sed him in the following manner, the nurse being present. — 1 Mr#
Paine, your opinions, by a large portion of the community*
have been treated with deference. You must be sensible
we are acquainted with your religious opinions, as they aregi v~
en to the world ; what then must we think of your present c&**~
duct ? Why do you call upon Jesus Christ to help you ? P°
you believe in the divinity of Jesus Christ ? Come now, answ^*
me honestly — I want an answer as from the lips of a dying mm***'
for I verily believe that you will not live twenty-four hours.'-" —
I waited some time at the end of every question : he did not
ewer, but ceased to exclaim in the above manner. Again I aC^
dressed him, 1 Mr. Paine, you have not answered my questions

will you answer them ? — Allow me to ask, do you believe ?

or let me qualify the question — Do you wish to believe that J^^
sus Christ is the Son of God ? After a pause of some moment^^
he answered, * I have no wish to believe on the subject"
then l*»ft him : and know not whether h* aftprwards spoke to an ^

pcHoo on any subject, though he lived till the morning of the
8tb.

How apparent is it from the preceding uarration, that the
mind of Paine was convinced of the truth of that religion which
he hid ridiculed, and whose Author he had blasphemed ; but
thai the stubborn pride of the hardened infidel prevented him
from explicitly confessing this, when the question was solemnly
pptto iiim. Indeed there seems much reason for believing that
be was in that state which forever precludes the possibility of
genuine repentance — that he was given over by God to a re-
probate mind.

There are some who affect not to believe this account of
Paine, and of the other infidels ; but it is hard to tell whether
inch affectation is caused by shame or ignorance, or both.—
Paiae's decease took place at New- York, and those who atten-
ded him at that horrid hour, were witnesses of his dread of ap-
* peering at the bar of God.

•••*#e^e**»*

ROMAN CATHOLIC INQUISITION AT GO A. \
min account of the Inquisition at Goa, in the East Indies.
[By the Rev. Claudius Buchanan, D. D.]

t

[Meth. Mag. — Eng.]

Before Dr. begins to give an account of the luquisition
*t Goa, he observes, with a candour and liberality suited to his
enlarged mind and generous heart, that "he is acquainted with
^dividuals of tiie church of Rome," whose unaffected piety he
consider s$a reproach to a great body of protestants, even of the
ttpicter sort." But he is very far from considering the excellen-
cy of their character, as an apology for a church which has
€°*»rupted the faith, and by her bloody persecutions rendered
^a^istianity odious to Jews, Turks, and Pagans.

-Arrived at Goa, principally with a design to inquire into tb?
8t^te of the inquisition there, Dr. B. was received in the house
°f the British resident, and introduced next day to the viceroy,
bjSr that gentleman and colonel Adams. Having obtained permis-
u^>« from his excellency to sail up the river to Old Goa, the seat
the inquisition, major Pareira, of the Portuguese establish*
u*^:nt, offered to accompany him, and to introduce him to the
a,r*Mihi?hop of Goa. The following account, copied from Dr.

The Wonders of

)3.'s Journal, is far from being calculated to make any irapre*"—
sioifs favourable to popery.

" Goa : Convent of the Augustiniansy Jan. 23, 1808.
" I had communicated to colonel Adams, and to the BritisLm.
resident, my purpose of inquiring into the state of the inquisition _
These gentlemen informed me, that I should not be able to ac-
complish my design without difficulty ; since every thing rela-
ting to the inquisition was conducted in a very secret manner^
the most respectable of the lay Portuguese themselves being ig-
norant of its proceedings ; and that, if the priests were to dis —
cover my object, their excessive jealousy and alarm would pre-
vent their communicating with me, or satisfying my inquiries on
any subject.

" On receiving this intelligence, I perceived that it would be
necessary to act with caution. 1 was, in fact, about to visit a
republic of priests : whose dominion had existed for nearly i
three centuries ; whose province it was to prosecute heretics, i
and particularly the teachers of he:\ - v : and from whose autho- j
rity and sentence there was no apj- in India. 1

" It happened that Lieut. Kempthorne, commander of bis I
majesty's brig Diana, was, at this time in the harbour. On I
his learning that I meant to visit Old Goa, he offered to ac- 1
company me ; as did captain Stirling, of his majesty's 84th re- I
giment. I

" We proceeded up the river in the British resident's barg* I
accompanied by major Pareira, who was well qualified, by 1
thirty year's residence, to give information concerning local cir^ 1
cumstances. From him I learned that there %ere upwards c** \
two hundred churches and chapels in the province of Goa, ao^
upwards of two thousand priests.

"On our arrival at the city, it was past twelve o'clock : al^
the churches were shut, and we were told that they could not b-^
opened again till two o'clock. 1 mentioned to major Pareii» '
that I intended to stay at Old Goa some days, and that I shoulc^^
be obliged to him to find me a place to sleep in. He seemeC^-*
surprised at this intimation, and told me that it would be diffi— ^"*"
cult for me to obtain a reception in any of the churches or con^^!
vents, and that there were no private houses into which 1 coulc— ^

be admitted. 1 said I could sleep any where ; I had two ser- "

vants with me, and a travelling bed. When he perceived tha" 1
I was serious in my purpose, he gave directions to a civil offi — "^J
cer, in that place, to clear out a room in a building which hat-
been long uninhabited, and which was then used as a warehou^ l— *
for goods. Matters at this tyne presented a very gloomy
pearance : and I had fhoughts of returning with my company

ion s from this inhospitable place. In the meau time we sat
dowo in the room I have just mentioned, to take some refresh-
ment, while Major Pareira went to call on some of his friends.
During this interval, I communicated to Lieut. Kempthorue the
object of my visit. I had in my pocket Dellon's account of
tbe inquisition at Goa ;* and I mentioned some particulars.
WMaik we were conversing on the subject, the great bell of the
efttfiedral began to toll ; the same which Dellon observes always
tolls, before day light, on the morning of the Auto da F£. I
did. not myself ask any questions of the people concerning the
inquisition ; but Mr. Kempthorne made inquiries for me ; and
be soon found out that the Santa Casa, or Holy Office, was
close to the house where we were sitting. The gentlemen went
to Xhe window to view the horrid mansion ; and 1 could see the
indignation of free enlightened men arise in the countenances
of the two British officers, while they contemplated a place
where formerly their own countrymen were condemned to the
flames, and into which they themselves might now be suddenly
thrown, without the possibility of rescue.

The magnificence of the churches of Goa far exceeded any
idea. I bad formed from the previous description. Goa is prop-
erty a city of churches : and the wealth of provinces seem to
hive been expended in their erection. The ancient specimens
of architecture at this place far excel any thing that has been
attempted in modern times in any other part of the East, both
grandeur and in taste. The chapel of the palace is built af-
ter the plan of St. Peter's at Rome, and is said to be an accu-
rate model of that paragon of architecture- The church of
St. Dominic, the founder of the inquisition', is decorated with
Pointings of Italian masters. St. Francis Xavier lies eushrined
a monument of exquisite art, and his coffin is enchased with
s'lver and precious stones. The cathedral of Goa is worthy of
°&e of the principal cities of Europe ; and the church and con-
VeHt of the Augustinians (in which I now reside) is a noble pile
°f building, situated on an eminence, and has a magnificent ap-
pearance from afar.

Ct But what a contrast to all this grandeur of the churches is
worship offered in them. I have been present at the service
one or other of the chapels every day since I arrived ; and
* Seldom see a single worshipper, but the ecclesiastics. Two
*°Wg of native priests, kneeling in order before the altar, cloth-
e<l in coarse black garments, of sickly appearance and vacant
c°tintenance, perform here, from day to day their laborious

f> * Momi«ur Dellon, a physician, was imprisoned in Iho dungeon of (he inquisition, a:
for two Tflan, and witn**«".ed nn Auto tfa Fp\ w!i«*r<- ^nr** lirn.tV* wrn* burwri.

The kVuudtrs of

masses, seemingly unconscious of any other duty or obligation
of life.

(t The day was now far spent, and my companions were about
to leave inc. While I was considering whether I should retain
with them, major Pareira said he would first introduce me to a
priest, high in office, and one of the most learned men in the
place. We accordingly walked to the convent of the Augustini-
ans, where 1 was presented to Josephus a Doloribus, a man well
advanced in life, of pale visage and penetrating eye, rather of a
reverend appearance, and possessing great fluency of speech
and urbanity of manners. At first sight he presented the aspect
of one of those acute and prudent men of the world, the learn-
ed and respectable Italian Jesuits, some of whom are yet found;
since the demolition of their order, reposing in tranquil obtcs-
rity, in different parts of the East. After half an hour's con-
versation in the Latin language, during which he adverted ra-
pidly to a variety of subjects, and inquired concerning $am
learned men of his own church, whom I had visited in ifty tour,
he politely invited me to tak* up my residence with him daring
my stay in Old Goa. I was highly gratified by this unexpected
invitation ; but lieutenant Kerapthorne did not approve of leav-
ing me in the hands of the inquisitor. Forjudge of our sur-
prise, when we learned that my learned host was one of the In*
quisitors of the Holy Office, the second member of thai august
tribunal in rank, but the first and most active agent in the busi-
ness of the department. Apartments were assigned to me in tb*
college adjoining the convent, next to the rooms of the Inquisitor
himself; and here I have now been four days at the very foun-
tain head of information, in regard to those subjects I wished t°
investigate. I breakfast and dine with the Inquisitor almost ev-
ery day, and he generally passes his evenings in ray apartmett*-
As he considers my inquiries to be chiefly of a literary nature, b<*
is perfectly candid and communicative on all subjects.

" Next day after my arrival, I was introduced, by my learned
conductor to the archbishop of Goa. We found him readial?
the Latin letters of St. Francis Xavier. On my adverting £<0
the long duration of the city of Goa, while other cities of Euro-
peans in India had suffered from war or revolution, the arcfc*~
bishop observed, that the preservation of Goa was " owing
the prayer of St. Francis Xavier." The Inquisitor looked **-x
me to see what I thought of this sentiment. I acknowledged
that Xavier was considered by the learned among the Englisfc"»»
to have been a great man. What he wrote himself bespeaks »
man of learning, of original genius, and great fortitude
mind; but what others have written of him has tarnished \m «s
ftime, by making him tlir? inventor of fables. * The archblsh^T

295

signified his assent. He afterwards conducted me into his pri-
vate chapel, which is decorated with images of silver, and then
hlto the archiepiscopal library, which possesses a valuable col-
lection of books. As I passed through our convent, in return-*
ing from the archbishop's, I observed, among the paintings in
the cloisters, a portrait of the famous Alexis de Menezes, arch-
bishop of Goa, who held the Synod in Dianyper, near Cochin
is- J 609, and burned the books of the Syrian Christians. From
tbe inscription uuderneath, I learned that he was the founder
of the magnificent church and convent in which I am now re-

MOn the same day I received an invitation to dine with the
drief Inquisitor, at his house in the country. The second Inqui-
sitor accompanied me, and found a respectable company of
priests, and a sumptuous entertainment. In the library of die
chief Inquisitor, 1 saw a register, containing the present estab-
fahmentof the Inquisition at Goa, and the names of the officers.
On my asking the chief Inquisitor whether the establishment was
* extensive as formerly, he said it was nearly the same. I
had hitherto said little to any person concerning the Inquisition,
but I had indirectly gleaned much information concerning it, not
only from the Inquisitors themselves, but from certain priests,
whom I had visited at their respective convents ; particularly
from a Father in the Franciscan Convent, who had himself re-*
peatedly witnessed an Auto da Fe."

" On Sunday, after divine service, which I attended, we looked
together over the prayers and portions of Scripture for the day,
*hich led to a discussion concerning some of the doctrines of
Christianity. We then read the third chapter of St. John's gos-
pcl> in the Latin Vulgate. I asked the Inquisitor whether he
believed in the influence of the spirit there spoken of. He dis-
tinctly admitted it; conjointly however, he thought, in some ob-
jure sense, with water. I observed that water was merely an
ttiiblemtof the purifying effects of the Spirit, and could be bid
emblem. We next adverted to the expression of St. John in
hi* first epistle; "This is he that came by water and blood : even
^•tw Christ ; not by water only, but by water and blood :
Mood to atone for sin, and water to purify the heart ; justifica-
tion and sanctification ; both of which were expressed at the
**>fce moment on the cross. The Inquisitor was pleased with
J*1* subject. I referred to the evangelical doctrines of Augustiu
are now in the Augustinian convent) plainly asserted by
lh%,t Father in a thousand places, and he acknowledged their
^th. I then asked him in what important doctrine be differed

" Goa, 20th Jan. 1808.

296

Tfc tVifiidtrs of

from the protestant church ? He confessed that he never bad
theological discussion with a protestant before. By an es
transition we passed to the importance of the Bible itself, to
lurainate the priests and people. I noticed to him, that a£
looking through the colleges and schools, there appeared to i
to be a total eclipse of scriptural light. He acknowledged d
religion and learning were truly in a degraded state. I had 1
ited the theological schools, and at every place I expressed i
surprise to the tutors, in the presence of the pupils, at thfc i
sence of the Bible, and almost total want of reference to if
They pleaded the custom of the place, and the scarcity of co
ies of the book itself. Some of the younger priests came aft
wards, desiring to know by what means they might procure co
ies. This inquiry for Bibles was like a ray of hope beaming c
the walls of the Inquisition.

" I pass an hour sometimes in the spacious library of the As
gustinian convent. There are many rare volumes, but they tr
chiefly theological, and almost all of the sixteenth centory.-
There are few classics: and 1 have not yet seen one copy of th
original Scriptures in Hebrew or Greek."

" Goa, 21th Jan. 180S.

" On the second morning after my arrival, I was surprised b;
my host, the Inquisitor, coming into my apartment clothed ii
black robes from head to foot ; for the usual dress of his orde
is white. He said he was going to sit on the tribunal of th
Holy Office. u I presume Father, your august office doe* no
occupy much of your time." " Yes," answered he, " much. 1
sit on the tribunal three or four days every week."

" I had thought, for some days, of putting Dellon's bookinti
the Inquisitor's hands; for if I could get him to advert toth
facts stated in that book, I should be able to learn, by compari
son, the exact state of the Inquisition at the present time. In til
evening he came in, as usual, to pass an hour in my apartment
After some conversation, I took the pen in my band to writ
a few notes in my journal ; and, as if to amuse him, while I wa
writing, I took up Dellon's book, which was lying with soifl
others, on the table, and handing it across to him, asked hii
whether he had ever seen it. It was in the French languag1
which he understood well. " Relation de 1'Inquisition de Got*
pronounced he, with a slow, articulate voice. He had nevt
seen it before, and began to read with eagerness. He had n<
proceeded far, before be betrayed evident symptoms of uneas
ness. He turned hastily to the middle of the book, and the
to.the end, and then ran over the table of contents atthebegif
ning, as if to ascertain the full extent of the evil. He then corr

JSIature and P,roviicjtce'.

29*

■

posed himself to read, while I continued to write. He turned
over the pages with rapidity, and when he came to a certain

CRce, he exclaimed in the broad Italian accent, " Mendacium,
endacium." I requested he would iqark those places which
»were untrue, and we should discuss them afterwards, for that I
had other books on the subject. Other books," said he,
and he looked with an inquiring eye on those on the table. He
confined reading till it was time to retire to rest, and then beg-
ged to take die book with him."
It may be proper here, heforc we proceed further in quoting
t from Dr.' B.'s Journal, to give the substance of a note from Del-
ft Ion's book, which gave the inquisitor so much uneasiness. —
ft Dellon was a physician, who was imprisoned for upwards of two
z ear* in a dungeon of the Inquisition. His alleged crime was,
*i Us charging, in a conversation with a priest* the Inquisition
1 with cruelty. During his confinenfent, he saw no person but
the gaoler, except when he was brought to triaK
One morning about two o'clock, he was led into a long galle-

£ where he was soon joined by a melancholy band of sufierers.
and the companions of his fate, received each a large wax
taper. Dresses of various descriptions were the* brought to
diem, painted with emblems of horror, in particular, caps made
of pasteboard, pointed like sugar loaves, all covered over with
Mb and flames of fire.

A little before sun-rise, the bell of the cathedral began to 1 in?,
to summon the inhabitants of Goa to behold the Auto da Fe.
Each of the sufferers was delivered into the harids of a person
called his godfather ; Dellon's was the commander of a ship.—
Because St. Dominic was the founder of the inquisition, the Do-
Hjinician friars had the infamous honour of marching first in the
procession to the place of burning. Next followed the prison-
ers, one by one, each attended by his godfather. The men and
*omen were mixed promiscuously. They all walked barefoot,
h the church of St. Francis, after hearing a sermon of a quarter
au hour's length, all the prisoners received their sentences.
Dellon's joy was extreme, when he heard that his sentence was
to be a galley-slave for five years. The victims destined to de-
action, were led to the bank of the river, where the viceroy
uf *0d his court were assembled, and where faggots had beeu
If prepared the preceding day. Arrived at the dreadful spot they
/ *ere asked in what religion they chose to die ; and immediately
I °n their answering, the executioner seized them, and bound
F them to a stake in the midst of the faggots.

These particulars premised, we return to Dr. B.'s Journal.
^ <c After breakfast we resumed the subject of the Inquisition.
Inquisitor admitted that Dellon's desrription? of the dun-

24

E
i
s
s

9

308

The Wanders of

geon's of the torture, of the mode of trial, and of the Auto da
F£ were in general just ; hut lie said the writer judged untruly
of the motives of the Inquisitors, and very uncharitable of the
character of the Holy Church ; and T admitted that under the
pressure of his peculiar suffering, this might possibly be the ease.
The Inquisitor was now anxious to know to what extent Delloo's
book had been circulated in Europe. — I told him that Picart
bad published to the world extracts of it, in his celebrated work
called " Religious Ceremonies';9' together with' triads of the
system of torture and burnings at the Auto da Fe. I added
that it was now generally believed in Europe that these enor-
mities no longer existed, and that the Inquisition itself had beta
suppressed ; but that I was concerned to find that this was not
the case. He now began a grave narration to shew that the In-
quisition had undergone a change in some respects, %nd that iff
terrors were mitigated.

" I had already discovered, from written or printed document^
that the Inquisition at Goa was suppressed by royal edict in £i
year 1775, and established again in 1779. The Franciscsi
father before mentioned witnessed the annual Auto da F£,froB
1770, to 1775. " ft was ihe humanity, and tender mercy of s
good king,9' said the old father, " which abolished thelnqaifl-
tion." But immediately on his dv&\ the power of thepneffc
acquired the ascendant, and the queen dowager, and the tribu-
nal were re-established, after a bloodless interval of five yesn.
It was continued in operation ever since. It was restored is
1779, subject to certain restrictions, the chief of which arefe
following, "That a f;r*:atw number of witnesses should be in-
quired to convict a criminal than were before necessary unit
"That the Ante da Fc should not be held publicly as feefae;
but that the sentences of the tribunal should be executed pri-
vately, within the walls of the Inquisition."

11 The chief argument of the Inquisitor to prove the radior*-
tion of the Inquisition was, the superior humanity of the IiMpt"
sircrs. I remarked that I did not doubt the humanity of the
^xifiing officers ; hut what availed humanity in an Inquisitor? be
must pronounce sentence according to the laws of the tribunal
which are notorious enough ; and a relapsed heretic must h*
burned in the flames, or confined for life in a dungeon, whetb«r
the Inquisitor be humane or not. But if, said I, you would**"
tisfy my mind completely on this subject, " shew me the Inqui*1*
tion/9 He said it was not permitted to any person to see tbc
Inquisition. I observed that mine might be considered as a p**
culiar case ; that the character of the Inquisition, and the e^*~
pediency of its longer continuance had been called in question*
that I had mystelf written on tlw dvilirnhon of India, and mif ' 3

2$9

ostibly publish something more on that subject, an£ that it
ould not be expected that I should pass over the Inquisition
rfrhout notice, knowing what 1 did of its proceedings ; at the
une time, I should not wish to state a single fact without his
fflthority, or, at least, his admission of its truth. I added, that
le himself had been pleased to communicate with me very fully
m the subject, and that in all our discussions we had both been
tctaaftd, I hoped, by a good purpose. The countenance of
^Inquisitor evidently altered on receiving this intimation, nor
Af it ever after wholly regain its wonted frankness and placid-
ity. After some hesitation, however, he said he would take
nt to the Inquisition the next day. I was a good deal surprised
it the acquiescence of the Inquisitor, but I did not know what
m in his mind."

** Next morning, after breakfast, my host went to dress for
the Holy Office, and soon returned in his inquisitorial robes. —
Be said he would go with me half an hour before the usual
time; for the purpose of shewing me the Inquisition. On our
arrival at the place, the Inquisitor said to me, as we were as-
cending the steps of the outer stair, that he hoped I should be
satisfied with a transient view of the Inquisition, and that I would
retire whenever he should desire it. I took this as a good
WSQ, and followed my conductor with tolerable confidence.

M He first led me to the great hall of the Inquisition. We
were met at the door by a number of well-dressed persons, who,
I afterwards understood, were the familiars and attendants of
Ae Holy Office. They bowed very low to the Inquisitor, and
looked with surprise at me. I traversed the hall for some time,
with a slow step, reflecting op its former scenes, the Inquisitor
walk^pg by my side in silence. I thought of the fate of a mul-
titude of my fellow creatures w ho had passed through' this place,
condemned by a tribunal of their fellow-sinners, their bodies
devoted to the flames, and their souls to perdition. And I could
■ot help saying to him, " Would not the Holy Church wish, in
tar mercy, to have those souls back again, that she might allow
ttam a little further probation ?" The Inquisitor answered no-
ting, but beckoned me to go with him to a door at one end of
toe hall. By this door he conducted me to some small rooms,
yd thence to the spacious apartments of the chief Inquisitor.
"*ving surveyed these, he brought me back again to the great
; and I thought he seemed now desirous that I should de-
part. " Now, Father, said I, " lead me to the dungeons be-
la*v ; I want to see the captives." " No," said he, " that can-
,0t be." I now began to suspect that it bad been in the mind
}f the Inquisitor, from the beginning, to shew me only a qgyrtain
***U of the Inquisition, in hope of satisfying my inquiries In a

general way. I urged lum with earnestness, but he steadili
sisted, and seemed to be offended, or rather agitated, by
importunity. I intimated to him plainly, that the only wa
do jnstice to his assertions and arguments, regarding the
gent state of the Inquisition, was to shew me the prisons am
captives. I should then describe only what I saw ; but no*
subject was left in awful obscurity. " Lead me down," sa
" to the inner building, and let m<i pass through the hun
dungeons, ten feet square, as described by your former capt
and converse with them. I want to see if there be any sub
of the British government to whom we owe protection. I i
te know how long they have been here, how long it is f
they beheld the light of the sun, and whether they ever ei
te see it again. Shew me the chamber of torture ; and dec
what modes of execution, or of punishment, are now pracl
within the walk*6f the Inquisition, in lieu of the public Ant
Fe\ If, after all that has passed. Father, you refuse this
sellable request. I shall be justified in believing, that yoo
afraid of exposing the real state of the Inquisition in India.
Te these observations the Inquisitor made no reply ; butsc
ei impatient that I should withdraw! " My good Father,"
I, " I am about to take my leave of you, and to thank yoi
your hospitable attentions, and I wish always to preserve «
mind a favourable sentiment of jour kindness and cam!
You cannot, you say, shew me the captives and the dunge
be pleased then merely to answer this question, for I shal
Keve your word : How many prisoners are there now belo
the cells of the Inquisition r" The Inquisitor replied, " Tt
a qfliltion which I cannot answer." On his pronouncing'
WOfd% I retired hastily towards the door, and wished Ji^
*^elL We shook hands with as much ^cordiality as we c
at the moment, assume ; and both of us, I believe, were i
that our parting took place with a clouded countenance.

" From the Inquisition I went to the place of burning ii
Catnpo Santo Lazaro, on the river side, where the victims
brought to the stake at the Auto da Fe. It is close to the p;
that the viceroy and his court may witness the execution ;
has ever been the policy of the Inquisition to make these sp
al executions appear to be the executions of the state. A
priest accompanied me, who pointed out the place and de
ed the scene. As I passed over this melancholy plain, 1 th
on the difference between the pure and benign doctrine, i

CiS first preached to India in the apostolic age, and that b
de, which after a long night of darkness, was announ<
it jpder the same name ! And I pondered on the mysti
dfrpitealiqn, which permitted the ministers of the inquh

future and Providence. 30 J

their racks and flames, to visit those lands before Ahe her-
of the gospel of peace. But the most painful reflection
that this tribunal should vet exist, unJtwed by the vicinity
ritish humanity '1 dominion. 1 was not satisfied with
I had se^i :,uid at the Inquisition, and I determined to
Mk. ;u c»in. The Inquisitors were now sitting on the tri-
4* and 1 had some excuse for returning ; for I was to re-
5 from the chief Inquisitors a letter, which he said he would
me, before I left the place, for the British resident in
rancore, being an answer to a letter from that officer.
W'hen I arrived at the Inquisition, and had ascended the
stairs, the door-keepers surveyed me doubtingly, but
sred me to pass, supposing that I had returned by permis-
i and appointment of the Inquisitor. I entered the great
U and went up directly to the tribunal dt the Inquisition,
icnbed by Dellon, in which is the lofty cruHfix. I sat down
a form and wrote some notes ; and then desired one of the
teadants to carry in my name to the Inquisitor. As I walked
i the hall, Lsaw a poor woman, sitting by herself on a bench
1 the wall, apparently in a disconsolate state of mind. She
lapped her hands as we passed, and gave me a look expres-
toe of her distress. This chilled my spirits. * The familtatgp
oH me, she was waiting there to be called up before the tri-
AUial of the Inquisition. m While I was asking questions con-
fcfning her crime, the second Inquisitor came out in evident
fcpidation, and was about to complain of the intrusion ; when
informed him I had come back for the letter from the chief
*}uisitor. He said it should be sent after me to Goa ; and he
ttiducted me with a quick step, towards the door. As w^
tsafi* the poor woman, I pointed to her, and said with some
Qphasis, " Behold, Father, another victim of the holy inquisi-
>H !" He answered nothing. When we arrived at the head of
^ great stair, he bowed, and I took my leave of Josephus a
oloribus, without uttering a word."

Thus ends Dr. B — n's account, in his "Christian Researches/'
the Inquisition at Goa ; an account sufficient to excite in all
lo have any respect for religion, or the feelings of humanity,
' abhorrence of popish domination. That a few pious indi-
duals are found among the papists, neither is, nor can be any
gument in favour of popery. Its adherents in general still
suntain its most obnoxious tenets ; n?mely, that salvation is
ipossible out of their church ; that heretics ought to be put
death : and that faith is not to be kept with heretics. Though
hen protestants were in their power, they proved themselves
(acquainted with either justice or mercy ; the mild sj^jt^ of
otestantism forbids their being persecuted : but prudefice," and

.102

Winder* #/'

the principle of self-preservation, should prevent all protests
states from intrusting them with political power. Let the &
of the slaughtered myriads, whose souls under the altar cryf
vengeance on mystic Bi.bylon, warrftprotestants against puttii
their lives or liberties in the power of men, whose principl
lead them to dignify with the appellation, " Holy office," tl
bloody tribunal of an Inquisition.

-

ROMAN CATHOLIC INQUISITION IN SPAIN.

Jin account of the sufferings of Mr. John Coustos, a Free-mam
who was tortured in one of their dungeons, with a view to exhr
from him the secrets of Free-masonry.

[From Coustos* Narrative.]

John Coustos, the subject of the following na/rative, aftfl
having endured the appalling routine of an Inqnisitorial exam-
ination, remarked, " I now wait, with all possible resignation;
for what ever you shall think proper to decree ; but still hope:
from your equity and justice, that you will not pass sentence
upon me, as though I was guilty of the crimes mentioned in
the indictment, upon the vain pretence, that inviolable secrecj
can be observed in such things only as are of a criminal B*
tare."

I was remanded back to my usual scene of woe, without be
ing able to imagine what impression my defence might havi
made on my judges. A few days after I was brought befqfebti
eminence Cardinal da Cunha, Inquisitor and director general <»
all the Inquisitions dependent on the Portuguese monarchy.

The president, directing .himself to me, declared, that th
holy tribunal was assembled, purposely to hear and determfo
my cause : that I therefore should examine my own mind ; ID
see whether I had no other arguments to offer in my justification
I replied, "that I had none; but relied wholly on their red
tude and equity." Having spoke these words, they sent fl
back to my sad abode, and judged me among themselves.

Some time after, the president sent for me again ; when beif
brought before him, he ordered a paper, containing part ofm
sentence, to be read. I thereby was doomed to suffer the to
tures employed by the holy office, for refusing to tell the trutl
as they falsely affirmed, for not discovering the secrets of m;
sonrjfc with the true tendency "and purpose of the meetings <
the brethren.

303

^reupon was instantly conveyed to the torture-room, built
»m of a square tower, where no light appeared, but what
: sin dies gave : and to prevent the dreadful cries and shock-
roans of the uphappy^yictims from reaching the ears of the
prisoners, the doors are lined with a sort of quilt.

reader will naturally suppose that I must he seized with
when, at my entering this infeinal place, I saw myself,
sndden, surrounded by six wretches, who' after preparing
tortures, stripped me naked, (all to linen drawers,) when,

me on mv hack, they began to lay hold of every part of
ody. First, they put round my neck an iron collar, which
^stened to the scaffold ; they then fixed a ring to each foot ;
•his being done, they stretched my limbs with all their
They next wound two ropes round each arm, and two
d. each thigh, which ropestpassed under the scaffold, through
I made for that purpose, and were all drawn tight at the

* time, by four men, upon a signal made for this purpose,
lie reader will believe that my pains must be intolerable,
a I solemnly declare, that these ropes, which were of the
i of one's little finger, pierced through my flesh quite to the
W ; making the blood gush out at the eight different places
it were thus bound. As I persisted in refusing to discover
f more than what has been seen in the interrogatories above ;

• ropes were thus drawn together four different times. At
r side stood a physician and a surgeon, who often felt my
iples, to judge of the danger I might be in ; by which means
' tortures were suspended, at intervals, that I might have an
lortunity of recovering myself a little.

Whilst I was thus suffering, they were so barbarously unjust

0 declare, that, were I to die under the torture, I shonld be
lty, by my obstinacy, of self-murder. In fine, the last time
ropes were drawn* tight, I grew so exceedingly weak, occa-
led by the blood's circulation being stopped, and the pains
idured, that I fainted quite away ; insomuch that I was car-

1 back to my dungeon without perceiving it.

Hiese barbarians finding that the tortures above described
Id not extort any further discovery from me ; but that, the
re they made me suffer, the more. fervently I addressed my
plications, for patience to heaven ; they were so inhuman
weeks after, as to exposcme to another kind of torture, more
Jvous, if possible, than tfie former. They made me stretch
arms in such a manner, that thajpalms of my hands were
aed outward ; when by the help <w a rope that fastened them
ether at the wrist, and which they turned by an engine; they
w them gently nearer to one another behind, in such a man-
that the baek of each hnnd touched, ami stood exactly par-

304

The Wonders of

allel on to the other; whereby both my shoulders were dislo-
cated, and a considerable quantity of blood issued from my
mouth. This torture was repeated thrice; after which I was-
again taken to my dungeon, and put in the hands of physi-
cians and surgeons, who in setting my bones, put me to exqui-
site pain.

Two months after, being a little recovered, I was again con-
veyed to the torture oora ; and there made to undergo another
kind of punishment twice. The reader may judge of its hor-
ror, from the following description thereof.

The torturers turned twice round my body a thick iron chain,
which, crossing upon my stomach, terminated afterwards at my
wrists. They next set my back against a thick board, at each
extremity whereof was a pulley, through which they run I
rope, that catched the ends of the chains at my wrists. The
tormentors then stretched these ropes, by means of a roller,
pressed or bruised my stomach, in proportion as the ropes were
drawn tighter. They tortured me on this occasion to such t
degree, that my wrists and shoulders were put out of joint.

The surgeons however set them presently after; bat the
barbarians not having yet satiated their cruelty, made me under- 1
go this torture a second time, which I did with fresh paiai,
though with equal constancy and resolution. I was then i*
manded back to my dungoon, attended by the surgeons who
dressed my bruises ; and here I continued till the Auto da FV
or gaol delivery.

The reader may judge from the faint description, of die <
dreadful anguish I must have laboured under, the nine differed
times they put me to the torture. Most of my limbs were pot
out of joint, and bruised in such a manner, that 1 was unable
during some weeks, to lift my hand to my mouth ; my body be-
ing vastly swelled, by the inflammations caused by the frequent
dislocations. I have but too much reason to fear, that I shall
feel the sad effects of this cruelty so long as I live ; being seised
from time to time with thrilling pains, with which I never vas
afflicted, iill 1 had the misfortuue to fall in the merciless afld
bloody hands of the Inquisitors.

The day of the Auto da Fe being come, I was made to watt
in the procession, with the other victims of this tribunal. Beiuft
come to St. Dominic's church, my^entence was read, by whi^
I was condemned to the galley (5s they term it) during fo*lt
years. ^

Four days after this profession, I was conveyed to this galle^^:
• and joined, on the morrow, in the painful occupation of my fir *
low slaves. However, the liberty I had of speaking to ^
friends, after havincrbeen deprived of even the sitrht of then

.fydiure and Prbvidetut.

ring my tedious, wretched abode in the prison of the inquisi-
n ; the open air I now breathed ; with the satisfaction 1 felt
being freed from the dreadful apprehensions which always
crspread my mind, whenever I reflected on the uncertainty of
pfate; these circumstances united, made me find the toils of
^galley much more supportable.

A» J had suffered greatly in my body, by the tortures inflicted
MP? in the prison of the Inquisition, of which the reader has
98 a very imperfect, though faithful narrative, in the foregoing
pet* ; I was quite unfit to go about the painful labour that was
UDediately allotted me, viz. the carrying water (an hundred
toads weight) to the prisons of the city. But the fears I was
tder, of being exposed to the inhumanity of the guards or over-
en who accompany the galley slaves, caused me to exert my-
If 10 far beyond my strength, that, twelve day& after, I fell
rievously sick. I was sent to the Infirmary, where I continued
ro months. During my abode in this place I was often visited
J the |rish friars belonging to the convent of Corpo Santo, who
fired to get my release, provided 1 would turn Roman Catho-
c. I assured them that all their endeavours would be fruit-
»; I expecting my enlargement from the Almighty alone,
too, if He, in his profound wisdom thought proper, would point
«t other expedients for my obtaining it, than my becoming an
postate.

Being unable, after this, to go through the toils to which I had
•en sentenced, I was excused, by my amply rewarding the
weneers. It was now that I had full leisure to reflect serious-
yon the means of obtaining my liberty ; and, for this purpose,
laired a friend to write to my brother-in-law, Mr. Barbu, to in-
Brtn him of my deplorable state ; and to iutreat him, humbly to
ddress the Earl of Harrington in my favour ; my brother-in-
Mr having the honour to live in his lordship's family. This
obleman, whose humanity and generosity have been the theme
^infinitely more able pens than mine, was so good as to endeav-
or to procure my freedom. Accordingly, his lordship spoke to
• grace the duke of Newcastle, one of the principal secretaries
f state ; with a view to supplicate for leave, from our sovereign,
*t his minister at Lisbon might demand me as a subject of
feat Britain.

His Majesty interposing in my favour, and his commands be-
g despatched to Mr. Compton, the British minister at Lisbon,
at gentleman demanded my liberty of the king of Portugal, in
s Britannic majesty's name ; which I accordingly obtained the
fter end of October, 1744. The person who came and releas-
i me from the galley, by order of the Inquisitors, took me he-
re them. The president then told nie, that Cardinal da Out-

The Wonders of

ha had given orders for my being released. At the same time,
he bid me return to the holy office in three or four days.

I could perceive, during this interval, that I was followed by
the spies of the Inquisition, who kept a watchful eye over my
behaviour, and the places I frequented. I waited upon our en-
voy, as likewise upon our consul, whom I informed of the com-
mands which had been laid upon me at the Inquisition ; and
those gentlemen advised me to obey them. They cautioned
me, however, to take a friend with me, for the purpose of giv-
ing them notice, should I be seized again. Accordingly I re-
turned to the Inquisitors, five days after, when the president
declared : 11 that the tribunal would not permit me to centime
any longer in Portugal ; and therefore that I must name the
city and kingdom whither I intended to retire." I replied,— '
" that as my family was now in London, I designed to go thither
as soon as possible." They then bid me embark in the fist
ship that should sail for England ; adding, that the instant I
had found one, I must inform them of the day and hour I intend-
ed to go on board, together with the captain's name, and that *
of his ship. i

A report prevailed some days after, that one of the perwts
seized by the Inquisition for free-masonry, and who obtained^
his liberty by turning Roman Catholic, had been so indiscreet
as to divulge the cruelties exercised in this tribunal.

I now imagined that prudence required me to secure nwseltf
from a second persecution. As there was, at this time, no En{f-~
lish ship in the port of Lisbon, 1 waited upon Mr. VantH,ta«
resident of Holland, and besought hifn to speak to the Dfltd*
admiral to admit me on board his fleet. The resident, touched
with my calamities, hinted my request to the admiral, who ge-
nerously complied with it. I then went, together with a frieiA ■
and informed the Inquisitor, that I designed to embark for Eng-
land, in the Damietta, commanded by vice-admiral Cornelia*
Screiver, who was to sail in a few days. Upon the IuquisitoK**
inquiring the exact time when I intended to go oi> board ; 1
plied, at nine o'clock the hext morning. He then bid me ccf***
to him precisely at that hour ; adding, that he would send so***
officers of the Inquisition to see me on ship-board.

These orders giving me great uneasiness, I waited upon
several gentlemen above mentioned : when, telling them the i *T
junctions laid upon me, they advised me to act very cautious? '
on this occasion. I therefore thought it would be safest for n^^|
to go on board immediately, without giving any notice of it
the Inquisitors. We lay at anchor, after this, near three weekf"^
before Lisbon.

•Vatu/e and Pruv-Ukutr.

Xhe Inquisitor no sooner found that I failed conring to bim hi
le time appointed, in order to be conducted to the ship, than
c gent out about fifty spies. Nine of these coming to inquire
Iter me, at the house where I used to lodge, searched it from
sp to bottom ; examining every trunk, chest of drawers and
loaet. But their endeavours to find me being fruitless, some of
(be officers of the Inquisition getting into a boat, rowed several
tees round the three Dutch men of war lying at anchor. These
tfkers imagined, that if I was on board, and consequently in a
iace of security, I should not be afraid of showing myself ; a
Arcumstance that would have put an end to their search, which
»st them some pains and expense. As I did not gratify their
tariosity, atid we weighed anchor a few days after, I know not
whether they continued it.

Their search was so open, both at the house where I lodged,
at well as at other places, that I was 'soon informed of it; at
irWch I should have been delighted, had not my joy been damp-
id by the apprehension I was under, lest my dear friend, Mr.
tfouton, the companion of my sufferings and tortures, merely on
ccount of free-masonry, should likewise fall a victim to their
ferbarity. Speaking concerning fiim to the admiral, he with
teatmost humanity, gave me leave to send for him on board.

coming accordingly next day, was received, with great satis-
Lotion, by the whole ship's company, especially by myself, I
fearing a peculiar esteem for him, which I shall ever enter-
in.

We set sail two days after. We had occasion to observe, dur-
i£5 bur whole voyage, the true pleasure which a generous mind
• t-ls, in doing a humane action, and in protecting the unhappy,
"his was particularly conspicuous in the admiral, he ordering
utmost care to be taken of us, all the time we were on board
i« ship ; he sometimes condescended to admit us to his table,
'hen he would talk to us with the utmost familiarity. This dis~
Hction won us the civility of every person in the ship, which
btitinued till our arrival at Portsmouth, where we landed ;
tthout having been put to a farthings expense during the
'Hole voyage.

All these favours, so generously bestowed by the Admiral, call
'oud for the strongest acknowledgments of gratitude.

To conclude, I arrived in London on the 1 5th of December
?44, after a long and dangerous voyage.

I here return thanks, with all the power of my soul, to the
k* mighty, for his having so visibly protected me from that in*
-*Ual band of friars, who employed the various tortures men-
kotied in the former pages, in order to forcr me to apostatize
rc>m my holy religion*

'/'//. It t, -JV <

RO.MAiN ( VrilOLIi: 1NQI ISITMVX XT UA< KRATA
l\ 1TAU

JVarratirc of J\Ir. lioin r, who gives an account of this Court of -
Inquisition and of secrets hitherto unknown relative to their pro- \

rtedinps against heretics. j

[Ueth. Majr. .irri Vol.] j

1 nkveh, (says Mr. Hower.) pretended that it was for the']
>ake*of religion alone, that I left Italy ; but on the contrary, haVfejl
often declared, as all my friends can attest, that, had I never be^
longed to the Inquisition, 1 should have gone on. as most Ronuut^j
Catholic s do. without ever qucstioninir the truth of the religion 'jl
• I w as brought up in. or thinking of any other. But the unheard*:. *
of cruelties of that hellish tribunal shocked me beyond all e»-
j,.ression. and rendered me, as I w as obliged, by my office of .
Counsellor, to he accessary to them, one of the most unhappy *
men upon earth. I therefore began to think of resigning my ofr j
fke: but, as I had on se\eral occasions, betrayed some weak- ;;
ness as they had termed it, that is. some compassion and lmmaJ*-:>4
ity, and had upon that account, been reprimanded by the In*
quisitor, I was weil apprized, thai my resignation would be as- iJ
cribed by him to my disapproving tin* proceedings of the holy .1
tribunal. And indeed to nothing el>e could he have ascribed^]
it. a^ a ph.ee at thai board was a >ure way to preferment, andfl
attcvlcd with *:reat prlvilegt s and a f nnVidcrablr salary.— >M
.f»eiii:.r therefore. >i-n^ib!e how dan^erou? a lliing it would betiCfl
?.ive the I t-i vr nind t«» any •■>piciou of that nature, and 00 9
'ont-d' aide to \'.:)x,v ihe -i::lit of the man\ barbarities practised?!
alm*.-t da-'v within the, e walls, nor tlx- n preaches of my con-'|
M-ictit e, in heinp- acce>>:»ry to them. 1 determined, alter many ^
re.-tli'*^ mghtc. and much deliberation with, myself, to withdraw i
at the same time from da* Inquisitor and from Italy. In this
mind, and in tha m«»-t unhajev and f -rna ntimr situation that
van possibly h iseaon ■ •!. I ••.»MMn:,«d near a twelvemonth, not .1
able to prevail up..!: to e\i-es,i.- i;«c resolution 1 had ta-

ken, on aeenuni • ; i*i ii. j:>\ dau^T* wh:< h ! foresaw would in-
evitably atcend i.. :o,-! ■ dieadiui < e,n°eqprnee* of my tailing
in the atterrpt. \\r.:. ii. i-ej in *" e mean ti'v ordered by the In-
quisitor tu ap;>r< :a i i ..• i.-r-on. with whi»m I lived in the great-
est intimacv ami •••■ieed -Sep. •}'.■ » art i wa- otdi-jed to act on
that oec::-i'.»;:, left -o rin-p an be- pre— ion in my mind a* soou
prevailed ov* •* all my fear-, and madji me determine to put into
e\#»rution. at al! • ♦ ios. mo withnm further delay, the de>igri I

r

JSutitcH and IVuvideiu't - 300

;

:,ued. Of that remarkable transaction, therefore, I shall
ere a particular account, the rather as it will shew in a.
trong light, the nature of the proceedings in that horrid

person, whom the Inquisitor appointed me .to apprehend
Mint Vicenzo della Torre, descended from an illustrious
in Germany, and possessed of a very considerable estate
territory of Macerata. He was one of my very particular
, and had lately married the daughter of Signior Constan-

Fermo, a lady no less famous for her good sense than her
. With her family, too I had contracted an intimate ac-
ince, while professor of Rhetoric in Fermo, and bad of-
ended the Count, during his courtship, from Macerata to
, but fifteen miles distant. I therefore lived with both in
eatest friendship and intimacy ; and the Count was the
erson that lived with me, after I was made Counsellor of
uisition, upon the same free footing as he had done till
ne : my other friends being grown shy of me, and giving
inly to understand, that they no longer cared for my

his unhappy young gentleman was one day walking with
r, he met two Capuchin friars ; and, turning to his com-
, when they were passed, * What fools,' said he, * are
:o think they shall gain heaven by wearing sackcloth and
bare-foot ! Fools indeed, if they think so, or that there
merit in tormenting one's self : they might as well live
do, and they would get to heaven quite as soon. Who
ed against him, whether the friars, his companion, or
>dy else, I knew not ; for the Inquisitors never tell the
of the informers to the Counsellors, nor the names of the
;es, lest they should except against thcrn. It is to be ob-

that all, who hear any proposition, that appears to them
ant to, or inconsistent with the doctrine of the holy

church, is bound to reveal it to the Inquisitor, and like-
i discover the person by whom it was uttered ; and, in
air no regard is to be had to any ties, however sacred ;
nher being bound to accuse the brother, the father to ac-
le son, the son the father, the wife her husband, and the
id his wife; and all bound, on pain of eternal damnation,

being deemed and treated as accomplices, if they do
lounce in a certain time ; and no confessor can absolve
>n, who has heard any thing said, in jest or in earnest,
i the belief or practice of the church, till that person has
ed the Inquisitor of it, and given him all the intelligence

concerning the person by whom it was said.
>ever it was that informed against my unhappy friend,

mo

The JVonihrs ^

whether the friars, his companion, or somebody else who might
have overheard him, the Inquisitor acquainted the board one
night (for, to be less observed, they commonly meet, out of
Rome, in the night) that the above-mentioned propositions had
been advanced, and advanced gravely, at the sight of two poor
Capuchins : that the evidence was unexceptionable ; and thtt
they were therefore met to determine the quality of the propo-
sition, and proceed against the delinquent agreeably to that de-
termination. There are in each Inquisition twelve counsellors,
viz. four Divines, four Canonists, and four Civilians. It if
chiefly the province of the divines to determine the quality of
the proposition, viz. Whether it is heretical, or only savours of
heresy ; whether it is blasphemous and injurious to God and hi
saints, or only erroneous, rash, schismatical, or offensive to pi-
ous ears.

That part of the proposition, " Fools, if they think that there
is any merit in tormenting one's self," was judged and declared
heretical, as openly contradicting the doctrine and practice of
holy mother church recommending austerities as highly merito-
rious- The Inquisitor observed, on this occasion, that by At
proposition, " Fools indeed," &c. were taxing with folly not on-
ly the holy fathers, who had all to a mart practised great ans-
tcrities, but St. Paul himself, who " chastised his body," that n,
whipped himself, as the Inquisitor understood it ; adding, that
the practice of whipping one's self, so much recommended by
all the founders of religious orders, was borrowed of the great
apostle of the gentiles.

The proposition being declared heretical, it was unanimously
agreed by the board, that the person who had uttered it, should
be apprehended and proceeded against agreeably to the laws of
the Inquisition. And now the person was named ; for, till ittf
determined whether the accused person should or should not be
apprehended, his name is kept concealed from the counsellors,
lest they should be biased, says the Directory, in his favour or
against him. For, in many instances, they keep up to an ap-
pearance of justice and equity, at the same time that, in truth
they act in direct opposition to all the known laws of justice
and equity. No words can express the concern and astonish*
nient it gave me to hear, on such an occasion, the name of *
friend for whom I had the greatest esteem and regard.
Inquisitor was apprized of it ; and, to give me an opportunity
practising what he had so often recommended to me, viz. of ccH1*
quering nature with the assistance of grace, he appointed me £°
apprehend the criminal, as he stiled him, and to lodge him sal^j
before day-light, in the prison of the holy Inquisition. I offers*
ro pxn?<ar myself, bat with the greatest submission, from heir**

Nafyre und Ptaxtidetict.

311

ra vs concerned in the execution of that order ; an order, I
wfpich I entirely approved of, and only wished it might be
* education by some other person; for your lordship knows,
I, the connexion. But the Inquisitor shocked at the word,
Hfct ?" said he, with a stern look and angry tone of voice,
|t of connexions where the faith is concerned I there is
ytaard, pointing to the Sbirri, or bailiffs, in waiting, let
■CVninal be secured in St. Luke's cell (one of the worst) be-
three in the morning." He then withdrew with the rest of
counsellors, and, as he passed me, " Thus," he said, " na-
il conquered." 1 had betrayed some weakness, or sense
ftUnanity, not long before, in fainting away while I attended
torture of one who was racked with the utmost barbarity ;
L I had, on that occasion, been reprimanded by the Inquisi-
for suffering nature to get the better of grace ; it being an
leasable weakness, as he observed, to be any way affected
k the suffering of the body, however great, when afflicted, as
y ever are in the Holy Inquisition, for the good of the soul,
d it was, I presume, to make trial of the effect this repri-
ad had upon me, that the execution of this cruel order
^committed to me. As I could by no possible means decline
I summoned all my resolution, after passing an hour by my-
T, I may say in the agonies of death, and set out a little after
i in themorning, for my unhappy friend's house, attended by "
Dtary of the Inquisition, and six armed Sbirri.
Ye arrived at the house by different ways, and knocking at
door, a maid servant looked out of the window, and inquir-
who knocked, was answered the Holy Inquisition, and, at
same time, ordered to awake nobody, but to come down di-
dy and open the door, on pain of excommunication. At these
rds, the servant hastened down, half naked as she was, and
ring with much ado, in her great fright, at last opened the
ft, she conducted us, as she was ordered, pale and trembling,
Iter master's bed-chamber. She often^ looked very earnestly
me, as she knew me, and shewed a great desire of speaking
me; but, of her, I durst take no kind of notice. I entered
bed-chamber with the notary, followed by the Sbirri, when
' lady, awakening at the noise, and seeing the bed surrounded
armed men, screamed out aloud, and continued screaming,
out of her senses, till one of the Sbirri, provoked at the
se, gave her a blow on the forehead that made the blood run
vn her face, and she swooned away. I rebuked the fellow
y severely, and ordered him to be whipped as soon as I re-
lied to the inquisition.

In the mean time the husband awaking, and, seeing me with
' attendants, cried out, in the utmost surprise, u Mr. Bower !'*

The Wonder* of'

He said then no more ; nor could L for some time, utter
word ; and it was with much ado tiiat, in the end, I mast
grief so far as .to be able to let my unfortunate frienc
that he was a prisoner of the Holy Inquisition. Of t
Inquisition !" he replied, " alas ! what have 1 done ? ]
friend, be my friend now." He said many affecting
but as I knew it was not in my power to befriend him, I
the courage to look him in the face, but turning my bad
withdrew, while he dressed, to a corner of the room,
vent to my grief there. The notary stood by him t
dressed, and, as I observed, quite unaffected. Indeed
void of all humanity, to be able to behold one's fellow-c
groaning and ready to expire in the most exquisite t
cruelty can invent, without being in the least affected w
sufferings, is one of the chief qualifications of an lnquis
what all, who belong to the Inquisition, must strive to a
It often happens, at that infernal tribunal, that, while ar
py, and probably an innocent person is crying out,
presence on the rack, and begging by all that is sacred
moment's relief, in a manner one would think no hum;
could withstand, it often happens, I say, that the Inquisi
the rest of that inhuman crew, quite unaffected with h
plaints, and deaf to his groans, to his tears and entrea
entertaining one another with the news of the town ; Ha
times they even insult, with unheard-of barbarity, the i
wretches in the heights of their torments.

To return to my unhappy prisoner ; he was no soone
ed, than I ordered the Bargcllo, or head of the Sbirri, t
hands with a cord behind his back, as is practised on s
casions, without distinction of persons, no more regar
shewn by the Inquisition io men of the first rank, when <
with heresy, than to the meanest artificers. Heresy c
all friendship ; so that I durst no longer look upon t
with whom I had lived in the greatest friendship and iti
as my friend, or shew him, on that account, the least re
indulgence.

As we left the chamber, the countess, who had been cc
out of the room, met us, and screaming out in a mos
manner, upon seeing her husband with his hands tied be!
back, like a thief or robber, flew to embrace him, and 1
on his neck, begged, with a flood of tears, we would be
ciful as to put an end to her life, that she might have tr
faction, the only satisfaction she wished for in this world
ing in the bosom of the man whom she had vowed nevei
with. The count, overwhelmed with grief, did not uttc
gle word. I could not find in my heart, nor was I in a c<

JVnture and Providence.

to interpose ; and, indeed, a scene of greater distress was never
beheld by ha man eyes. However, I pave a signal to the notary
fp part them, which he did accordingly, quite unconcerned ; but
the iCoontess fell into a swoon, and the count was, in the mean
ti0e« carried down stairs and out of the house, amidst the loud
Tuiin pp. 1111111 in ' aud sighs of his servants, on all sides ; for he was
a jrfaNQTemarkable for the sweetness of his temper, and his kind-
O0fft %o all about him.

Bfeihg arrived at the Inquisition, I consigned my prisoner in-
* lite hands of the gaoler, a lay brother of St. Dominic, who
J&i him up in the dungeon mentioned above, and delivered the
key to roe. 1 lay that night in the palace of the Inquisition,
stecre every counsellor has a room, and returned next morning
Ac key to the Inquisitor, telling him that his order had been
punctually coinplyed with. The Inquisitor had been already
ttinutely informed of my whole conduct by the notary ; anfl
therefore, upon my delivering the key to him, " You have acted
(be laid,) like one who is desirous at least to overcome with
the assistance of grace, the inclinations of nature ;" that is like
QRe;who. is desirous with the assistance of grace, to metamor-
phose himself, from a human creature, into a brute or a devil.
. h the Inquisition, every prisoner is kept, the first week of his
NDpisoumem, in a dark narrow dungeon, so low that he cannot
•tod upright in it, without seeing any body hut the gaoler, who
Mugs him, every other day, his portion of bread and water, fhe
only food that is allowed him. This is done, they say, to tame
lorn, and render him, thus weakened, more sensible of the tor-
. *Bf, and less aj)le to hear it. At the end of the week, he is
bought in the night before the hoard to be examined ; and, on
occasion, my poor friend appeared so altered, in a week's
tioe, that, had it not been for his dress, I should not have known
hfol; and indeed no wonder ; a change of condition so sudden
*)d unexpected ; the unworthy and barbarous treatment he had
*lftady met with ; the apprehension of what he might, and prob-
s^f *My should suffer ; and perhaps, more than any thing else, the
Stressed and forlorn condition of his once happy wife, whom
Tfd| ^ tenderly loved, whose company he had enjoyed only six
^KHiths, could he attended with no other effect. Being asked
oil According to custom, whether he had any enemies, i^nd desired
00 to name them ; he answered, that he bore enmity to no man,
*nd hoped that no man bore enmity to him. For as, in theln-
^ VuYitinn, the person accused is not told of the charge brought
{± ^g&hist him, nor of "the person by whom it is brotnrht, the Inquis-
3p« rtorasks him whether he has any enemies, and desires him to
namethem. If he names the informer, all further proceedings
Ve topped till the informer is examined anew : and if the in-

o

or

rfc

The fl ondtrb of

formation is found to proceed from ill-will, and no collateral
proof can be produced, the prisoner is discharged. Of this
piece of justice they frequently boast, at the same time that they

admit, both as informers and witnesses, persons of the most in- J

famous characters, and such as are excluded by all other cowls. J

In the next place, the prisoner is ordered to swear that he will I

declare the truth, and conceal nothing from the holy tribunal, I

concerning hiir^elf or others, that he knows, and the holy tribu- I

nal is desirous to know. He is then interrogated for what crinr I

he bas been apprehended and imprisoned by the Holy Court of I

the Inquisition, of all courts the most equitable, the most can* M
tious. the most merciful. To that interrogatory the count as- m
swered, with a faint and trembling voice, that he was not cob- ■
sciotis to himself of any crime, cognizable by that holy court H
nor, indeed, by any other ; that he believed, and ever had be*
lieveel, whatever holy mother church believed, or required Vm jv
to believe. He had, it seems, quite forgot what he had untbtt*

ingly said at the sight of the two friars. Inquisitor there- *

fore, finding he did not remember, or would not own his cmtf, £

after many deceitful interrogatories, and promises which he «

never intended to fulfil, ordered him back to his dungeon, ttd *

allowing him another week, as is customary in such cases, to re- 4

collect himself, told him that, if he could not in that time, pre* q

vail upon himself to declare the truth, agreeable tt» bis oatbi !\

means would be found of forcing it from him ; and he must eat- ■>

pect no mercy. i

At the end of the week he was brought again before the U** if

fernal tribunal, and being asked the same questions, returned \

the same answers, adding, that if he had done or said anything «

amiss, unwittingly or ignorantly, he was ready to own it, pK*- ¥

vided the least hint of it were given him by any there present* i

which he entreated them most earnestly to do. He often looked *
at me, and seemed to expect, which gave me such concern asP°

words can express, that I should say something in his favour* \

But I was not allowed to speak on this occasion, nor was any <rf «

the counsellors; and, had I been allowed to speak, 1 durst no1 ti

have said any thing in hi?, favour, the advocate appointed by «*

the Inqu'sition, and commonly stiled, " The Devil's. Advocate," «

being the only person that is suffered to speak for the prisoner- i|
This advocate belongs to the Inquisition, receives a salary 0*

the Inquisition, and is bound by an oath to abandon the defence . «

of the prisoner if he undertakes it, or not to undertake it, if fae e

finds it cannot be defen led agreeably to the laws of the Holy i
Inquisition ; so that the whole is mere sham and imposition. 1
have heard this advocate, on other occasions, allege something

Aatare and Providence.

i favour of the person accused; but on this occasion he declar-
I that he bad nothing to offer in defence of the criminal.
In the Inquisition, the person accused is always supposed
niky, onless he has named the accuser amongst his enemies :
■d he is put to the torture if he does not plead guilty, and own
he crime that is laid to his c harge, without being so much as
old what it is ; whereas in all other courts where tortures are
Med, the charge is declared to the party accused before he is
MMnred ; nor are they ever inflicted without a credible evidence
fraught of his guilt. But in the Inquisition, a man is frequently
■Mured upon the deposition of a person, whose evidence would
te admitted in no other court, and in all cases without hearing
m charge. As my unfortunate friend continued to maintain his
hnocence not recollecting what he had said, he was agreeably
to the laws of the Inquisition, put to the torture. He had scarce
bane it twenty minutes, frying out the whole time, "Jesus
Maria," when his voice failed him at once, and he fainted away.
He was then supported as he hung by his arms, by two of the
SUrri, whose province it is to manage the torture, till he re-
timed to himself. He still continued to declare that he could
net recollect his having said or done any thing contrary to the
Catholic faith, and earnestly begged they would let him know
with what he was charged, being ready to own it if it was true.
The Inquisitor was then so gracious as to put him in mind of
what he had said on seeing the two Capuchins. The reason
why they so long conceal from the party accused, the crime he
b charged with, is, that if he should be conscious to himself of
Us having ever said or done any thin contrary to the faith,
which he is not charged with, he may discover that too, imagin-
ing it to be the very crime he is accused of. After a short pause,
the poor gentleman owned that he had said something to that
purpose, but, as he said it with no evil intention, he had never
more thought of it from that time to the present. He added, but
with so faint a voice as scarce could be heard, that for his rash-
ness he was willing to undergo what punishment soever the ho-
ly tribunal should t ink fit to impose on him: and he again
feinted away. Being ea>ed for a while of his torment, and re-
tamed to himself, he was interrogated by the promoter fiscal
(whose business it is to accuse and to prosecute, as neither the
informer nor the witnesses are ever to appear) concerning his
intention. For, in the Inquisition, it is not enough for the party-
accused to confess the fact, he must likewise declare whether
his intention was heretical or not ; and many, to redeem them-
jelves from the torments they car, no longer endure, own their
mention was heretical, though it really was not. My poor
Hend often told us, he was ready to say whatever he pleased ;—

The Wonder* if

but, as he never directly acknowledged his intention to he
been heretical, as is required by the rules of (hat court, hei
kept on the torture till, quite overcome with the violence of I
anguish, he was ready to expire ; and, being then taken doi
he was carried quite senseless, back to his dungeon ; and the
on the third day, death put an end to his sufferings. The
quisitor wrote a note to his widow, to desire her to pray for
soul of her late husband, and warn her not to complain of
Holy Inquisition, as capable of any injustice or cruelty. 1
estate was confiscated- to the Inquisition, and a small jointure
lowed out of it to the widow. As they had only been marr
six months, and some part of the fortune was not yet paid.
Inquisitor sent an order to ihe Constautini family, at Fermo,
pay to the holy office, and without delay, what they owed to :
late count della Torre. For the effects of heretics are all i]
facto confiscated to the Inquisition, and confiscated fronrrthe Yl
day, not of their conviction, but of their crime ; so that all dot
tions made after that time are void ; and whatever they hi
given is claimed by the Inquisition, into whatsoever handi
may have passed ; even the fortunes they have given to th
daughters in marriage have been declared to belong to, and I
claimed by the Inquisition ; nor can it be doubted that the (
sire of those confiscations is one great cause of the injustice I
cruelty of that court.

The death of the unhappy Count della Torre was soon ps
\ licly known ; but no man cared tn speak of it, not even his 00
est relations, nor so much as to mention his name, lest any thi
should inadvertently escape them that might be construed h
a disapprobation of the proceedings of the most hol y tribunt
so great is the awe all men live in of that jealous and mercil
Vcoart.

The other instance of the cruelty of the Inquisition, related
the spurious account of my escape published by Mr. Ban
happened some years before I belonged to the Inquisition ; a
I did not relate it as happening in my time, but only as happ<
ing in the Inquisition of Macerata. It is rernted at length in \
annals of that Inquisition, and the substance of the relation is
follows : An order was sent from the high tribunal at Rome,
all the Inqui-itors throughout Italy, enjoining them to app
bend a clergymen minutely described in that order. One '
swering the description in many particulars being discovered
the diocese of Osimo, at a small distance from Macerata, 1
subject to that Inquisition, he was there decoyed into the Inc
sition, and by an order from Rome, so racked as to lose
use of his senses. In the mean time the true person being
prehended, the unhappy wretch was dismissed by a second

Nature and Frovidtnce. 317

tfer from Rome ; but lie never recovered the use of his senses,
0or was any care taken of htm by the Inquisition. Father Pi-
Hia9 who was then Vicar at Osimo to Father Montccuccoli, In*
{•prist tor at M act rain, and died some years ago a good Protest-
ant, at Cambridge, published an account of this affair, that ea-

UseVy agrees with the account I read of it in the records of the

iMutition.

The deep impression that the. death of my unhappy friend, the
*o*t barbarous and inhuman treatment he had met with, and the
part 1 had been obliged to act in so affecting a tragedy, made on
mj mind, got at once the better of my fears ; so that forgetting
IB a manner the dangers I had till then so much apprehended. I
resolved, without further dclav, to put in execution the design I
had formed of quitting the Inquisition, and bidding for ever adieu
i- la Italy. To execute that design with some safety, I proposed
; to beg leave of the Inquisitor, to visit the Virgin of Loretto, but
thirteen miles distant, and to pass a week there; but in the
\ time, to make die best of my way to the country of the

Gnions, the nearest country to Macerata, out of the reach of
the. Inquisition. Having therefore, after many conflicts with
I Djfeelf, asked leave to visit the neighbouring sanctuary, and ob-
l tinted it, I set out on horseback the very next morning, leaving,
■ ** I proposed to keep the horse, his full value with the owner.

i took the road to Loretto, but turned out of it at a small dis-
i tance froi»i Recanati, after a most violent struggle with myself,
tta attempt appearing to me, at that juncture, quite desperate* \
and impracticable and the dreadful doom reserved for mef
•hould I miscarry, presented itself to my mind in the strongest
%ht. But the reflection that I had it in my power to avoid be-
,n£ taken alive, and a persuasion that a man in my situation
""glit lawfully avoid it, when every other means failed him, at
t^e expense of his life, revived my staggered resolution ; and all
fears ceasing at once, I steered my course, leaving Loretto
me, to Rocca Contrada, to Fossonbrone, to Calvi in the
^u K^dom of Urbino, ami from thence through the Romagna into
tne Bolognese, keeping the by roads, and at a good distance
fr^im the cities of Fano, Ptsaro, Rimini, Forlr, Faenza, and
Imiola, through which the high road passed. Thus I advanced
very slowly, travelling, generally speaking, in very bad roads,
anj«i often in places where there was no road at all. to avoid, not
onj^ the cities and towns, but even tlve villages. In the mean time,
1 ^^ldom had any other support hut some coarse provisions, and
aV^ry small quantity even of them, that the poor shepherds, the
c<1 Pantrymen, or wood cleavers, 1 met in those unfrequented by
P^ces con](] spare me. *My horse fared not much better than
111 >f self ; but. in choosing my sleeping place. I consulted hid

31 & The Wonders of

convenience as much as my own, passing the night wl
lbund most shelter for myself and most grass for him. Iu
there area very few solitary farm houses or cottages, the c<
people there all live together in vi lages ; aud i thoughl
safer to lie where 1 could be any way sheltered, than to v
into any of them. Thus 1 spent seventeen day* before I p
of the ecclesiastical state ; and I ver\ narrowly escaped
taken or murdered, on the very borders of that state ; i
pened thus :

1 had passed two whole days without any kind of suhsi
whatever, meeting with nobody in the bj -roads that woul
ply me with any, and fearing to come near any house, as
not far from the borders of the dominions of the Po
thought I should be able to hold it till I got into tkc Mo<
where I believed I should be in less danger than wliilt
mained in tiie papal dominions ; but finding myself, abou
of the third day, extremely weak and ready to faint av
came into the high road that leads from Bologna to Flore;
a few miles distant from the former city, and alightet
post house, that stood quite by itself. Having asked the v
of the house whether she had any victuals ready, and bein
that she had, I went to open the- door of the only room
house (that being a place where gentlemen only stop to c
horses) and saw, to my great surprise, a placard pasted
with a mott minute description of my whole person, mi
promise of a reward of 800 crowns, about £200 English n
for delivering me up alive to the Inquisition, being a fi
from the holy tribunal, and of GOO crowns for my head. 1
same placard, all persons were forbidden, on the pain of die $
excommunication, to receive, harbour or entertain me, t
ceal, or screen me, or to be any way aiding and assisting
4ti making my escape. This greatly alarmed me, as the i
may well imagine; but I was still more affrighted when en
the room, I saw two fellows drinking there, who, fining
eyes upon me as soon as I came in, continued looking
very steadfastly. I (trove, by wiping my face, by blowii
nose, by looking out of the window, to prevent their ha'
full view of me. But, one of them saying, the gentleman
afraid to be seen,! put up my handkerchief, and turning
fellow, said boldly, What do you mean you rascal ? Look ;
am I afraid to b 3 seen? Me said nothing, but looking
steadfastly at me and nodding his head, went out, and hi:
panion immediately followed him. I watched \hem, and :
them, with two or three more, inclose conferrence, and no
consulting whether they should apprehend me or not, I w
that moment into the stable, mounted my horse unobserv

► Nature mid Providence. 3 1 <j

u-

tbem, and while they were deliberating in an orchard, behind
t the house, rode off lull speed, and in a few hours got into the
3lodane?e, where I refreshed both witli food and with rest, as I
was there in no imm diate danger, my horse and myself. 1 was
indeed surprised to find that those fellows did not pursue me.;
nor can I any other way account for it, but by supposing, what
i* not improbable, that, as the} were strangers as well as my-
seK *nd had all the appearance of banditti or ruffians flying out
of the dominions of the Pope, the woman of the house did not
ore to trust them with her horses. From the Modanese I con-
.tinned my journey, more leisurely, through the Parmesan, the
r" Milanese, and part of the Venetian territory, to Chiavenna, stib-
^ ject with its district, to the Orisons, who abhor the very name

> of the inquisition, and are ever ready to receive and protect all
; . who, flying from it, take refuge, as many Italians do, in their do-
minions. However, as 1 proposed getting as soon as 1 could to

* the city of Bern, the metropolis of that great Protestant canton,

> tad was informed that my best way was through the cantons of
Ury and Underwald, and part of the canton of Lucern, all three

* popish cantons, 1 carefully concealed who I was, and from
whence 1 came. For, though no Inquisition prevails among the
Swiss, yet the Pope's nuncio, who resides at Lucern, might have
persuaded the magistrates of those popish cantons to stop me,

} « »n apostate and deserter from the order.

Having rested a few days at Chiavenna, 1 resumed my journey,
f quite refreshed, continuing it through the country of the Oris-
ons, and the two small cantons of Ury and Underwald, to the
canton of Lucern. There I missed my way, as I was quite unac-
quainted with the country, and, discovering a city at a distance,
: *as advancing to it, hut very slowly, as I knew not where I
! ; when a countryman, whom 1 met, informed me that the
c'ty before me was Lucern. Upon that intelligence, I turned
°ot of the road as soon as the countryman was out* of sight;
^d that night 1 passed with a good natured shepherd in his
I cottage, who supplied me with sheep's milk, and my horse with
f Plenty of grass. 1 set out very early next morning, making
*he best of my way westward, as 1 knew that Hern lay west of
lucern. But, after a few miles, the country proved very moun-
tainous, and, having travelled the whole day over mountains,
' w5*s overtaken amongst them by night. As I was looking out.

a place where I might shelter myself during the night,
jR^inst the snow and the rain, (for it both snowed and rained)
? Perceived a light at a distance, and making towards it, got
,n*o a kind of foot-path, but so narrow and rugged, that 1 was
obliged to lead my horse, and feel my way with one foot, liav-
*nS no light to direct me, before I durst m< ve the other. Thus

T/«e Wonders of

with tnurli difficulty 1 reached the place where the light was, ss
DO'tr little cottage ; and knocking at the door, was asked by m
man within, who I was, and what I wanted ? 1 answered that E
was a stranger and had lost my way. Lost your way ? replied
the man, then* is no way here to lose. I then asked him in
what canton I was, and upon his answering, that 1 was in ttm
canton of Bern, " I thank God" I cried out, transported witS
joy, " that I am." The good man answered, " And so do I.*
I then told him who T was, and that I was going to Bern, bvm
had quite lost myself, by keeping out of all the high roads, 1m
avoid falling into the hands of those who sought my destruction
He thereupon opened the door ; received and entertained nfe*
with all the hospitality his poverty would admit of; regale^
me with sour crout and some new laid eggs, the only provision
he had, and clean straw with a kind of rug for my bed, \mm
having no other for himself and his wife. The good woman ex-
pressed as much satisfaction and good nature in her countenance,
as her husband, and said man y kind things in the Swiss language
which her husband interpreted to me in the Italian; for that
language he well understood, and spoke so as to be understood,
having learned it, as he told me, in his youth, while servant ia
a public house on the borders of Italy, where both languages
are spoken. I never passed a more comfortable night; and no
sooner did I begin to stir in the morning, than the good man
and his wife came both to know how I had rested ; and, wish-
ing they had been able to accommodate me better, obliged n* i
to breakfast on two eggs, which providence, they said, had sop-
plied them with for that purpose. I then took leave of the wife,
who, with her eyes lifted up to heaven, seemed most sincerely to
wish me a good journey. As for the husband, he would by *H
means attend me to the hij»h road leading to Bern; which road,
he said, was but two miles distant from that place. But he in-
sisted on my first going back with him, to see the way I had
come the night before ; the only way, he said, I could have pos-
sibly come from the neighbouring canton of Lucern. I sawfc
and shuddered at the danger I had escaped ; for I found that I
had walked and led my horse a good way along a very narrow
path on the brink of a very dangerous precipice. The man |
made so many pious and penitent remarks on the occasion, **
both charmed and surprised me. I no less admired his disinter-
estedness than his piety ; for, upon our parting, after he had at-
tended me till I was out of all danger of losing my way, I could
by no means prevail upon him to accept of any reward for his
trouble. He had the satisfaction, he said, of having relieved fl*
in the greatest distress, which wo< in itself a sufficient r^w^,r^',
and he carod for no nthor.

Nature and Providence.

321

I reached Bern that night, and proposed staying some time
there 5 but, being informed by the principal minister of the
place, to whom I discovered myself, that boats went frequently
down the Rhine, at that time of the year, with goods and pas-
sengers from Basil to Holland, and advised by him to avail my-
self of that opportunity, T set out accordingly the next day, and
grossing the popish canton of Soleurre in the night, but very
carefully avoiding the town of that name, I got early the next
morning to Basil. There I met with a most friendly reception
from one of the ministers of the place, having been warmly re-
commended to him by a letter I brought with me from his broth~
^~ er at Bern. As a boat was to sail in two days, he entertained
5^_. wws very elegantly, during that time, at his house ; and I em-
~ ^ barked the third day, leaving my horse to my host, in return
? for his kiudnoss.

The company in the boat consisted of a few traders, of a great
>te5*£ vagabonds the very refuse of the neighbouring nations,

and some criminals flying from justice. But I was not long
isft t'Iem » *°r' l*je k°at stp'kinsc against a rock not far from
^trasbiirgh, J resolved not to wait till it was refitted, (as it was
Nrtroy design to go to Holland) but to pursue tny journey
xn?£ Partly m *'ie common diligence or stacre-coach, and partly on
t : v.Jl P°*l horses, through Prance into Flanders.
:cc--."f Having got safe into French Flanders. I there repaired to the
allege of the Scotch Jesuits at Douay, and, discovering myself
.dir-iw 10 the rector, I acquainted him with the cause of my sudden de-
h.iL»i P*rture from Italy, and begged him to give immediate notice of
'ttrr- toy arrival, as well as to the motives of my flight, to Michael
icrf .: Angelo Tambuvini, general of the order, and my very particu-
lar friend.

The rector wrote as I had desired him, to the general ; and
f'ie general, taking no notice of my flight, in his answer (for he
ir U ) couH not disapprove it, and did not think it safe to approve it)
0pdered me to continue where I was till further orders. I ar-
r,ved at Douay early in May; and continued there till the latter
endof June, or the beginning of July, when the rector received
a second letter from the general, acquainting him, that he had
been commanded by the congregation of the Inquisition, to or-
der me, wherever 1 was, back to Italy ; to promise me, in their
n*mc, full pardon and forgiveness if I obeyed; but, if I did not
°key, to treat me as an apostate. He added, that the same or-
der had been transmitted, soon after my flight, to the nuncios at
*he different Roman Catholic courts . and he, therefore, advised
^e to consult my own safety without further delay.

l^pon the receipt of the general's kind letter, the rector was
^opinion that I should repair by all means, and without loss Of

11

'i . .

TKe Wonder* of

time, to England, not only as the safest asylum I could Ay to,
inv present situation, but as a place where 1 should soon recov
my native language, and be usefully employed, as soon as Ir
covered it, either there or in Scotland. 1 readily closed wi
the rector's opinion, being very uneasy in my mind, as my o
doubts, in point of religion, daily gained ground, and new oc
arose upon my reading (which was my only employment) t
books of controversy I found in the library of the college. T
place being thus agreed on, and it being at the same time s
tied between the rector and me, that I should set out on the v*
next morning, I solemnly promised, at his request and desire,
take no kind of notice, after my arrival in England, of bis bt
ing been any ways privy to my flight, or of the general** letl
to him. This promise I have faithfully and honourably o
served ; aud should have thought myself guilty of the bite
est ingratitude if I had not observed it, being sensible that, h
it been known at Rome, that either the rector or general h
been accessary to my flight, the Inquisition would have reser
cd it severely in both. For, though a Jesuit in France, in Fla
ders, or in Germany, is out of the reach of the Inquisition, t!
general is not ; and the high tribunal not only have it in tk
power to punish the general himself, who resides constandy
Rome, but may oblige hirn to inflict what punishment di
please on any of the order noxious to them.

The rector went that very night out of town ; and in his t
sence, but not without his privity, I took one of the horses
the college, early next morning, as if I were going for change
air, being somewhat indisposed, to pass a few days at Lis
but, steering a different course, I reached Aire that night, s
Calais the next day. I was there in no danger of being st
ped and seized at the prosecution of the Inquisition, a tribi
no less abhorred in France :h;m in England. But, being info
ed by the general, that the nuncios at the different courts
been ordered, soon after my flight, to cause me to be up;
bended in the Roman Catholic countries through which I m
pass, as an apostate or deserter from the order, 1 was under
►mall apprehension of being discovered and apprehendec
such, even at Calais. No sooner, therefore, did 1 alight at
inn, than 1 went down to the quay ; and there, :is I was i
little acquainted with the sea, and thought the passage m
shorter than it is, I endeavoured to engage some fisherme
rarry me that very night, in one of their small vessels ov^
England. This alarmed the guards of the harbour ; at
should have been certainly apprehended, as a person guilty
s»uspeeted of some great crime, fleeing from justice, had"
Lord Badrimflre. •whom I had the good Inch u> meet in the

31 MDJ>33 O*4 TORT^RI^ft

Nature and Providence.

323

led me of my danger, and pitying my condition, attended
it moment, with all his company, to the port, aud convey-*
immediately on board his yacht. There I lay that night,
gr every thing 1 had, but the clothes on my back, in the
md the next day, his Lordship set mc ashore at Dover,
rlience I came in the common stage to London.

5UNTS OF THE PERSECUTIONS OF CHRIS-
TIANS.

Allowing is an account of the svfferings of Christians, as
persecuted by Heathens, Jetos, and Roman Catholics.

[Buck's Theological Dictionary.]

Mentions of the Christians by the Jews. Here we neetl
? copious, as the New-Testament will inform the reader
particularly how the first Christians suffered for the cause
th. Jesus Christ himself was exposed to it in the great-
gree. The four evangelists record the dreadful scenes,
need not here be enlarged on. After his death/the apos-
ffered every evil which the malice of the Jews coujd invent,
heir mad zeal execute. They who read the Acts of the
les, will find, that like their Master, they were despised
ejected of men, and treated with the utmost indignity
ratempt.

secutions of Christians by the Heathens. Historians usu-
>ckon ten general persecutions, the first of which was un-
e' emperor Nero, thirty one years after our Lord's ascen-
when that emperor, having set fire#to the city of Rome,

the odium of that execrable action on the Christians.-—

were apprehended who openly avowed themselves to be
t sect ; then by them wete discovered an immense multi-
all of whom were convicted. Their death and tortures
aggravated by cruel derision and sport ; for they were

covered with the skins of wild beasts and torn in pieces
vouring dogs, or fastened to crosses, and wrapped up in
istible garments, that, when the day light failed, they
, like torches, serve to dispel the darkness of the night. For
agical spectacle, Nero lent his own gardens ; and exhibi-

the same time the public diversions of the circus; some-
driving a chariot in person, and sometimes standing as a
tor, while the shrieks of women burning to ashes supplied

The H'anllrrs of

music lor his ears. The second general persecution was uude^^H
Domitian, in the year 9,), when A 0,000 were supposed to linva^n

suffered martyrdom. The third began in the third year of Tra

jan, in the year 100, and was carried on with great violence fo

several years. The fourth was under Autonius, when the Chris

tians were banished from liieir house?:, forbidden to show thei
heads, reproached, beaten, hurried from plan? to place, pluit=^
dered,". imprisoned, and stoned. The fifth hegan in the yea_.
127, under Scverus, when great cruelties were committed. I ^
this reign happened the martyrdom of Perpetua and Felicitates
and tlieir companions. Perpetua had an infant at the brcasL
and Felicitas was just delivered at the time of their being pc ^
to death. These two beautiful and amiable young nomw%
mothers of infant children, after suffering much in prison, wem
* exposed before an insulting multitude, to a wild cow, who man^^ —
led their bodies in a most horrid maimer ; after which tbe-y
were carried to a conspicuous place, and put to death by ttac_»
sword. The sixth began with the reign of Maximinus, in 25-3.
The seventh which was the most dreadful ever known, began in
250, under the emperor Decius, when the Christians were in «• 2 1
places driven from their habitations, stripped of their estate*
tormented with racks, &:c. The eighth began in 257, under
Valerian. Both men and women suffered death, some by scour-
ging, some by the sword, and some by fire. The ninth was und^r
Aurelian, in 274 ; but this was inconsiderable, compared with
the others before mentioned. The tenth began in the IDthycnr
of Dioclesian, 30o. In this dreadful persecution, which lasted
ten years, houses filled with Christians were set on fire, au*l
whole droves were tied together with ropes, and thrown intotb**
sea. It is related that 17,000 were slain in one month's tinw? »
and that during the continuance of this persecution, in the prov-
ince of Egypt alone, no le?s than 141,000 Christians died l*^
the violence of lheirftpersecutors ; besides 700,000 that dio^
through the fatigues of banishment, or the public works *°
which they were condemned.

Persecution of Christians by those of the same name. N*f~
merous were the persecutions of different sects from Constat*-"
tine's time to the reformation ; but when the famous Marti*1
Luther arose, and opposed the errors and ambition of the churc'1
of Rome, and the sentiments of this good man began to spread, tl*e'
pope and his clergy joined all their forces to hinder their pro-
grcss. A general council of the clergy was called : this *'**5
the famous council of Trent, which was held for near eiglitc^*1
successive years, for the purpose of establishing popery in gr«at-
er splendour, and preventing the reformation. The friends to t*1*
reformation were anathematized and excommunicated, and

;Vi/ ///a itn.il llrurii!eHO.

life ol* Luther was often in danger, though ;ii last ho diet] on
I lie of peace. From time to time innumerable schemes

were suggested to overthrow the reformed church, and wars
were set on foot fur the same purpose. The invincible armada,
as it was vainly called, had the same end in view. The inqui-
sition, which was established in the twelfth century against the
Wftkienscs, (See Inquisition,) was now more effectually set to
work. Terrible persecutions were carried on in various parts.
tt Germany, and even in Bohemia, which continued about thir-
ty years, and the blood of the saints was said to flow like riv-
€t% of water. The countries of Poland, Lithuania, and Hun-
gary, were in a similar manner deluged with Protest.int blood.
In Holland, and in the other Low Countries, for many years
the most amazing cruelties were exercised under the merciless
arid unrelenting hands of the Spaniards, to whom the inhabi-
tants of that part of the world were then in subjection. Fa-
ther Paul observes, that these Belgic martyrs were f>0,GOO \
but Grotius aud others observe, that there were 100,000 who
suffered by the hand of the executioner. Herein, however, sa-
tatt and his agents failed of their purpose; for in the issue great
P*rtofthe Netherlands shook off' the Spanish yoke, and erect-
ed themselves into a separate and independent state, which has
?*®r since been considered as one of the principal Protestant
countries of the universe.

^Jo country, perhaps, has ever produced more martyrs than
Fr*»nce. After many cruelties had been exercised againts the
Protestants, there was a most violent persecution of them in the
Te^r 1572, in the reign of Charles IX. Many of the princi-
pal Protestants were invited to Paris under a solemn oath of
safety, upon occasion of the marriage of the King of Navarre
the French king's sister. The (jueen dowager of Navarre,
a Jealous Protestant, however, was poisoned by a pair of gloves
b^iTere the marriage was solemnized. Coiigni, admiral of
*r?*jice, was basely murdered in his own hou>e, and then thrown
°J1*. of the window to gratify the malice of the duke of Guise :
l"*5 head was afterwards cut off', and sent to the king and (jueen-
"^"aher ; and his body after a thousand indignities offered to it,
ni*rig by the feet on a gibbet. After this the murderers ravaged
tho whole city of Paris, and butchered in three days, above ten
thousand lords, gentlemen, presidents, and people of all ranks.
^ Viorrible scene of things, saysThuanus, when the very streets
ar*d passengers resounded with the noise of those that met to-
other for murder and plunder ; the groans of those who were
^ying, and the shrieks of such as were just going to be butcher-
were every where heard ; the bodies of the slain thrown out
the windows ! the court and chambers of the houses filled with.

*■

them ; the dead bodies of others draped through the streets
their blood ruining through the channels in such plenty, tha
torrents seemed &? empty themselves in the neighbouring river
in a word an innumerable multitude of men, women with chili
maidens and children, wAv all involved in one common destine
* tion ; and the gates and entrances of the king's palace all be
smeared with their blood. From the city of Paris the massi
ere spread throughout the whole kingdom. In the city of Mean
they threw about two hundred into gaol ; and after they ha
ravished and killed a great number of women, and plundered tb
houses of the Protestants, they executed their fury on those the;
had imprisoned ; and calling them one by one, they were killed
as Thuanas expresses, like sheep in a market. In Orleans the*
murdered above live hundred men, women and children, and en
riched themselves with the spoil. The same cruelties were prac
tised at Angers, Troycs, Bouges, La Charite, and especially a
Lyons, where they inhumanly destroyed above eight hundrei
Protestants ; children hanging on their parents' necks ; parent
embracing their children ; putting ropes about the necki o
some, dragging them through the streets, and throwing then
mangled, tern, and half dead, into the river. According ti
Thuanus, above ;*0,000 Protestants were destroyed in this mas
sacre ; or as others affirm, above 100,000. But what aggravate
these scenes with still greater wantonness and cruelty, was, tin
manner in which the news was received at Rome. When tin
letters of the pope's legate were read in the assembly of the car*
dinals, by which he assured the pope that all was transacted bj
the express will and command of the king, it was immediately
decreed that the pope should march with his cardinals to th<
church of St. Mark, and in the most solemn manner give thank*
to God for so great a blessing conferred on the see of Rome aiK
the Christian world ; and that, on the Monday after, solera*
mass should hf celebrated in the church of Minerva, at whicl
the pope, Gregory XIII. and cardinals were present ; and th*
a jubilee should he published throughout the whole christian
world, and the cause of it declared to be, to return thanks f*
God for the extirpation of the enemies of the truth and chuicl
in France. In the evening the cannon of St. Angelo were fire*
to testify the public joy ; the whole city illuminated with bod
(ires ; and no one sign of rejoicing omitted that was usual! J
made for the greatest victories obtained in favour of the Ro©**
church ! ! !

But all these persecutions were, however, far exceeded *J
cruelty by those which took place in the time of Louis Xl^
It caunot be pleasant to any man's feelings, who has the le*fi
humanity, to recite these dreadful scenes of horror, cruelt>

.Yc/^itf and Pwiixidtuct*

and devastation ; but to slum* what superstition, bigotry, and
fanaticism, are capable of producing, and for the purpose of
holding up the spirit of persecution to contempt, we shall here
give as concise a detail as possible. The troopers, soldiers, and
dragoons, went into the Protestant's houses, where they marred
and defaced their household stuff; broke their looking-glasses
and other utensils ; threw about their corn and wine ; sold what
• tbey could not destroy ; and thus, in four or five days, the Pro-
ttitants were stripped of above a million of money. Hut this
WM not the worst : they turned the dining rooms of gentlemen
into stables for horses, and treated the owners of the houses
wbere they quartered with the greatest cruelty, lashing them
About, not suffering them to eat or drink. When they saw the
blood and sweat run down their faces, they sluiced them with
wataJJ and, putting over their heads kettle drums turned upside
down, they made a coritiuual din upon them till these unhappy
creatures lost their senses. At Negreplisse, a town near Mon-
teubon, they hung up Isaac Favin, a Protestant citizen of that
pj*ce, by his arm pits, and tormented him a whole night by
Punching and tearing off hisflesli with pincers. They made a
ff^at fire round about a boy, twelve years old who, with hands
aBd eyes lifted up to heaven, cried out, " My God, help me !"
Md when they found the youth resolved to die rather than re-
^Unce his religion, they snatched him from the fire just as he
on the point of being burnt. In several places the sol-
ars applied red hot irohs to the hands and feet of men, and
the breasts of women. At Nates, they hung up several wo-.

and maids by the feet, and others by the arm pits, and
thia exposed them to public view stark-naked. They bound
Mothers, that gave suck, to posts, and let their sucking infants
pe languishing in their sight for several days and nights, cry-
and gasping for life. Some they hound before a great fire,
ai*d, being half roasted, let them go ; a punishment worse than
d^ath. Amidst a thousand hideous cries, they hung up men
women by the hair, and some by their feet, on hooks in
chimneys, and smoked them with wisps of wet hay till they were
Saffocated. They tied some under the arms with ropes, and
Plunged them again and again into wells ; they bound others,
Put them to the torture, and with a funnel filled them with wine
tlH the fumes of it took away their reason, when they made
lhetn say they consented to be Catholics. They stripped
lhetn naked, and after a thousand indignities, stuck them
pins and needles from head to foot. In some places
lJ*e^ tied fathers and husbands to their bed-posts, and, before
i^°ir eyes, ravished their wives and daughters with impunity.
* Kf?y blew np men and women with bellows rill they bursl

32S The Wondcns of

them. If aiM, to c>cape the barbarities, endeavoured to *av
themselves by flight, they pursued them into the field* an
woods, where they shot at them, like wild beasts, and prohibtte
them from departing the kingdom (a cruelty never practised b
Nero or Diocletian,) upon pain of confiscation of effects, tf
tralleys, the lash, and perpetual imprisonment. With the
scenes of desolation and horror the popish clergy feasted the
eyes, and made only matter of laughter and sport of them !

England has also been the seat of much persecution. Thong
"Wickliffe, the lirst reformer, died peaceably in his bed, yet sue
was the malice and spirit of persecuting Rome, that his bow
were ordered to be dug up, and cast upon a dunghill. The n
mains of this excellent man were accordingly dug out of it
grave, where they had lain undisturbed four and forty year
His bones were burnt, and the ashes ca>t into an adjoining brook
Tn the reign of Henry VIII. Bilney, Bayman, and manyothc
reformers were burnt ; but when (juceu Mary, came to the throiq
the most severe persecutions took place. Hooper and RogM
were burnt in a slow fire. Saunders was cruelly tormeutrfi
long time ai the stake before he expired. Taylor was put into
i barrel of pitch, and fire set to it. Eight illustrious persooii
among whom was Fcrrar, bishop cf St. David's, were sought
out, and burnt by the infamous Bonner in a few days. Sixty-
>evcn persons were this year, A. D. 1 555, burnt, amongst wbofl
were the famous Protestants, 'Bradford, Ridley, Latimer, and
Philpot. In the following year, 155G, eighty-five persons »W
burnt. Women suffered : and one, in the flames, which burst
her womb, being near her time of delivery, a child fell from h*t
into the fire, which being snatched out by some one of theob-
servers more humane than the rest, the magistrate ordered the
babe to be again thrown into the fire and burnt. Thus even
the unborn child was burnt for heresy ! O God what is hunffl
rvature when left to itself! Alas ! dispositions ferocious as in-
fernal then reign and usurp the heart of man ! the queen erec-
ted a commission court, which was followed by the destructionol
near eighty more. Upon the whole the number of those who
Nuflrred death for the reformed religion in this reign, were note'6
than two hundred and seventy-seven persons, of whom were five
bishops, twenty-one clergymen, eight gentlemen, eighty-four
iradesmen, one hundred husbandmen, labourers, and servants,
fifty-five women, and four children. Besides these, there
Hfty-four more utider prosecution, se\en of whom were whipped
and sixteen perished in prison. Nor w;ir, the reign of Eliiabelb
iVee from thi* persecuting spirit. If any one refused to consent
»o the least ceremony in wor>hip, he was cast into prison, ultert
many nf tli«- rpnst cxtIVii' mm in fh» land perished. /T'nr

Nature and Providence.

329

Protestant Anabaptists were burnt, aud many banished. She
also, it is said, put two Brownists to death ; and though her
whole reign was distinguished for its political prosperity, yet it
is evident that she did not understand the rights of conscience ;
for it is said that more sanguinary laws were made in her reign
\, jOuuk in any of her predecessors, and her hands were stained
i. nWh the blood both of Papists and Puritans. James I. suc-
\ ended Elizabeth : he published a proclamation, commanding
b\ aR Protestants to conform strictly, and without any exception,
at ttall the rites and ceremonies of the church of England. Above
fat hundred clergy were immediately silenced, or degraded,
Bui far not complying.. Some were excommunicated, and some
*^ banished the country. The Dissenters were distressed, censured
nd fined, in the Star-Chamber. Two persons were burnt for
beresy, one at Smithfield, and the other at Litchfield. Worn
Oft with endless vexations, and unceasing persecutions, many
Wtired into Holland, and from thence to America. It is wit-
' aened by a judicious historian, that, in this and some following
feigns, 22,000 persons were banished from England by perse-
cution to America. In Charles the First's time arose the per-
secuting Laud, who was the.occasion of distress to numbers. —
Dr.Leighton, for writing a book against the hierarchy, was fin-
ed t|D thousand pounds, perpetual imprisonment, and whipping.
Betas whipped, and then placed in the pillory ; one of his
ens cat off, one side of his nose slit ; branded on the cheek
*ilh a red hot iron, with the letters S. S. whipped a second
tone, and placed in the pillory. A fortnight afterwards, his
**es being yet uncured, he had the other ear cut off, the other
M **k°fl"s nose s'frj an(' the other check branded. He coutin-
*ed in prison till the long parliament set him at liberty. About
four years afterwards, William Prynn, a barrister, for a book
Rewrote against the sports on the Lord's day, was deprived
from practising at Lincoln's Inn, degraded from his degree at
Oxford, set in the pillory, had Itis ears cut off, imprisoned for
life, and fined five thousand pounds. Nor were the Presbyte-
rians, when their government came to lie established in Eng-
k»id, free from the charge of persecution. In 1645 an ordi-
nance was published, subjecting all who preached or wrote
Against the Presbyterian directory for public worship to a fine
not exceeding fifty pounds ; and imprisonment for a year, for
the third offence, in using the episcopal book of common prayer,
^cn in a private family. In the following year the Presbyte-
fians applied to parliament, pressing them to enforce uniformity
? religion, and to extirpate popery, prelacy, heresy, schism,
.fcc. but their petition was rejected ; yet in Jf> IS the parliament
rUled by them, published an ordinance again?! here-y. ;md

The JV&udrrs of

termined that any person who maintained, published, or defend-
ed the followim: mors should si.ft .* 'oath. These errors were:
I. Denying th<- bei'ii, ■ rf i (in.: »-,.. Denying his omnipresence,
omniscience, kc- ■ !. the Trinity in any wajf.— A.

Denying that C* « ;tnres. — 5. Denying the resur-

rection ihe a- .?n*ipturcs. In Charles the secondV

reign t\u* act *f . d, by which two thousand cler-

gymen w .■ . * '\t benefices. Then followed At.

convent .<? Oxford act, under which, it is said^

eight ?' . ■■!,!? were imprisoned and reduced to wo^
and r»\v" .vr'iv. In this reign also, the Quakers wen^

much p« r • vit. t1, and numbers of them imprisoned. Thus wt
see \v» Ln,:„uid has bled under the hand of bigotry and pjav
sen*-' ; nr.r was toleration enjoyed until William III.
t<- * ; . i*i;iie, who showed himself a warm friend to the
-J t . ^ience. The accession of the present royal family
au.-jiicions to religious liberty; and as their majesties hi
ways befriended the toleration, the spirit of persecution has
long curbed.

Ireland has likewise been drenched with the blood of theftfc
testants, forty or fifty thousand of whom were cruelly murdfe
ed in a few days, in different parts of the kingdom, in the 1^1
of Charles I. h began on the 23d of October, 1641. H«f|pg
secured the principal gentlemen, and seized their effects, d%*
murdered the common people in cold blood, forcing qwjp
thousands to fly from their houses and settlements naked iiflt
the bogs and woods, where they perished with hunger and ctU..
Some they whipped to death, others they stripped naked, i ^
exposed to shame, and then drove them like herds of S'
perish in the mountains : many hundreds were drowned m . r
ers, some had their throats cut, others were dismembered*-^
With some the execrable villains made themselves sport, tryiqp
who could hack the deepest into an Englishman's flesh r wivtf
and young virgins abused in the presence of their nearest rela-
tions ; nay, they taught their children to strip and kill the chil-
dren of the English, and dash out their brains against the stone?.
Thus many thousands were massacred in a few days, without
distinction of age, sex, or quality, before they suspected their
danger, or had time to provide for their defence.

Besides the persecutions in Scotland, Spain, &c. there have
been several others carried on in different parts of the world. —
Scotland for many years together has been the scene of cruelty
:;nd bloodshed, till it wa< delivered by the monarch at the revo-
lution. Spain, Italy, and the valley of Piedmont, and other
places, ha\e been the seats of much persecution. Popery, we
•fee, Ins had the irreutest ham! in this mischievous work. If ha>

/i-itTi/ttf hrr HitAvJtts.tx with straw whirh the Irish -Hainan (\it/if/n
xri ctt llrr mtikirttf rt with hrr xutiirritttjs.

J\itiiirf. and Pi oridetift .

swer, also, for the lives of millions of Jews, Mahometans and
arians. When the Moors conquered Spain in the eighth
try, they allowed the Christians the free exercise of their
do ; but in the fifteenth century, when the Moors were
:ome, and Ferdinand subdued the Moriscoes, the descend*
of the above Moors, many thousands were forced to be
led, or burnt, massacred, or banished, and the children
lor slaves ; besides innumerable Jews, who shared the
cruelties, chiefly by means of the infernal courts of Inqui-
i. A worse slaughter, if possible, was made among the
es of Spanish America, where fifteen millions arc said to
been sacrificed to the genius of popery in about forty
i. It has been computed that fifty millions of Protestants
at different times been the victims of the persecutions of
'apists, and put to death for their religious opinions. Well,
fore, might the inspired penman say, that at mystic Baby-
destruction, c was found in her the blood of prophets, of
s» and of all that was slain upon the earth,' Rev. xxviii. 24.
> conclude this article, who can peruse the account here
l without feeling the most painful emotions, and dropping a
over the madness and depravity of mankind ? Does it
how us what human beings are capable of when influen-
>y superstition, bigotry, and prejudice? Have not these
iul principles metamorphosed men into infernals ; and en-
extinguished all the feelings of humanity, the dictates of
ience, and the voice of reason ? Alas ! what has sin
to make mankind such curses to one another ? Merciful
by thy great power suppress this worst of all evils, and
nth and love, meekness and forbearance universally pre*

GOD'S PROVIDENCE ASSERTED.

-prising deliverance of a soldier from the jaws of a tnon
strovs Tiger in the East Indies.

[An Eng. paper.]

was after a long day's march of fifteen miles across a coun-
vhere, with difficulty, an ancient road could be traced, and
Tiadc by deep ravines cut by the rains, with here and there
;ht stones, that we arrived at a jungle unusually swampy,
1 from its size and the fatigued state of the soldiers and
I thought it prudent to defer passing until the following

The Wondtm of

morning, when, probably, we should fall in with anenemj
three thousand strong, with several pieces of cannra un
command of Ally Naws Kan, with whom we were not o\
ious to hazard an engagement, from the inferiority of oui
which consisted culy of six hundred Europeans, and tw
field pieces.

I observed several flocks of wild peacocks and turkey
the tents were pitching, which always frequent the sai
heathy ground, adjacent to jungles, that tygers do ; but fi
numbers, the compactness of our encampment, and the '
tion I had taken to order fires to be kindled in various dir
I conceived we had little to fear from any visit those gei
might think proper to pay to lis. I had just entered my t<
wrapped myself in my boat cloak, with a view to dose ai
remaining hour or two before we broke up for anothf

march to join general R y, when the report of a musk

ed me. I instantly started to the entrance of my tent, 8
questioning the ccntinel who stood there, as to the directio
sound, when a huge tyger, with monstrous bounds passec
a few yards of the spot where I was standing, with one
brave fellows struggling in his jaws. My sentinel imira
fired at him ; but the agitation of the moment prcveuted
king a deadly aim. The ball to all appearance struck hi
the enormous bound he immediately made, but only to i
his speed. We were however, enabled to follow him, 1
blood that now fell from him, or his unhappy prey, and
ready entered the jungle several hundred yards, before
gan to despair of finding the latter alive, and of aiding
cue. Judge of our horror, on hearing on a sudden a
sullen growl, or roar, which made the hills echo a stil
dreadful sound ; and the next moment, of our joy, on
greeted with a hearty halloo from our lost companion, al
ty yards further in the jungle than wc had penetrated, wh
as heartily returned by those who joined me in the pursi
in a few moments more we met him limping towards us,
joyous a face as ever I witnessed, even alter the most fli
success.

The following account of his escape he afterwards coe
to paper : a I was just returning, (said he) at a good bris
from one of the posts down the jungle, where I had been
some victuals to my bed-fellow, when 1 heard a kind of l
noise in some bushes, about six or seven yards behind n
before I could turn round to ascertain the cause, I was p
upon, and knocked down with such force, as to deprivi
my senses, till I arrived opposite your tent ; when the sud
port of a musket, together with a kind of twitching in roj

J\'uturte and P-ro$id(n(r.

jUg'h t me to my senses, and to a view of the great dang.

I was : but, nevertheless, 1 did not despair. I now
pi t-c^ think of saving myself, and though carried away \
picll^y 9 I felt, as well as saw that the centinel'sball had, inst
r lii^/ti mg the tiger, struck me, and that I was losing blood v
^t- X remembered that my bayonet was in my belt, and
t^cV5*! that if it was possible for ine to draw it, I might yet \
Vlic horrible death that awaited me.
***i\\A\ much difficulty put my arm back, and found it, ai
jtiey*^ times attempted to draw it from its sheath ; but from m
p0*Vt\on I was unable. To describe the fear I now felt would I
5l0p^sible : 1 thought it would be all over with me soon. A
thank heaven ! after another attempt with my utmost force
\ dtew it out, and instantly plunged it into his shoulder. Hi
founded aside, and his eyes flashed frightfully ; he let me down
but instantly seized me again above the hip, which, at first, pre*
vented me from drawing my breath ; I now had, from the change
of position, a fair opportunity of killing the monster and saving
tny life. I stabbed him behind the shoulder several times as
deeply as the bayonet would enter ; he staggered, and fell, and
again let me go, rolling several yards behind me. 1 now thought
myself safe ; and was getting up, when he rose, and with a dread-
ful roar, again attempted to seize me, but again fell down and
rolled close to my feet. I now had the advantage of a fallen
enemy, which 1 forgot not to turn to the best account, and again
plunged my bayonet into his side, which I suppose from his
struggles pierced his heart. 1 then fell on my knees, and en-
deavoured, but, from the fullness of my heart, I was unable to
return thanks aloud to Almighty God for his gracious goodness
in delivering mc from so terrible a death. I rose and hallooed ;
my halloo was returned, and just afterwards I was met by ray
comrades and the ofiicer, or pcrha, s 1 might have been lost from
my weakness."

It would appear that the tyger, either from the distance of his
leap, or the hardness of the soldier's cartouch box, fortunately
missed his hold, and seized him after he had knocked him down,
by his clothes, the cartouch box sa\ed him from being bitten.
But I am convinced, that never did any man, if we take into
consideration the distance lie was carried before he released
limself, and the circumstance of his being wounded by the ball
ntended for the tyger, which directed us that way to follow, a
lore providential escape to all appearance from an inevitable
nd lingering death, could never have happened to any man.
It is well known that the tygers of the East Indies, are of
agnitude and strength, sufficient to seize and carry away a
an with ease, in his jaws, to the haunt* and caves of his native,
ods.

- Iv

o3.4 TM WwilfC* */

THE PHENOMENA OF FIRE AND EARTHQUAKES.
[By John Wesley, LL. D.]

1. Of the effect* and nature of fire. 1 14. Of Enrlhq'jftkes.

2. Of the Generation audi nourishment of it ] 15. Destruction of Port Roval inJanafca
.!. Ot uniokft nud ashe« ;C. Of Lima.

4. Of burning inmiiifuin*. 17. Of Calloo.

r». Of Mount Etna. US. A remarkable deliverance.

G. Of Mount Ye.su\iu?. i \U. Of pools and of Elrien Hole.

7. Of Mount Secco. '20. Earibquake* caused hr ElcctricitT.

8. Of Monte Neuvo. |"2I. Account of a burning well.
9 New Islands : 22. Of onu near Bro**lv

10. Bimiinp Inlands.

11. Of Mount H«-cla.

12. Of (luadaloupe.

13. Of the Peak of Teneriffe.

23. A fire of the same kind.

24. A burning vapour.

25. Ptnons consumed by internal fire,

1. The effects of fire are various. It beats, it shines, it ex*
panels, it dissolves other bodies, either by melting or reducing:
them to ashes or a calx. Most of these argue a vehement mo-
tion of its particles, which tears asunder whatever it seizes. It
seems to be a most subtle matter, dispersed throughout the uni-
verse. Yet this, even when collected, soon scatters again, un-
less it be detained by some inflammable matter. Not that fire
will spring from every motion : it must be circular, as well ai
rapid. For if particles move ever so swift in a straight line, no
fire will follow.

Heat seems to be nothing but motion : but this motion ba»
some peculiar circumstances. I . It is expansive motion, wherein 3
a body endeavours to dilate itself 2. This motion is upward
and toward the circumference. 3. It is not an equable motic*11
of the whole, but only of the smaller particles of the body.
It is a rapid motion. Heat may therefore be defined, an expa*"*"
sivc undulatory motion in the minute particles of a body wber^^"
by they rapidly tend to the circumference, and at the same tine* *
upward.

Fire has some effect on most bodies, even in an exhausted r^"~
ceivcr. One placed a black ribbon therein, and then applied
burning glass. Abundance of smoke issued out of it, wbicF ^
fell by little and little, arid the ribbon appeared not at all chang-*^
ed. But when it was touched, after the rcadmission of the ahv>
it presently fell into ashes.

The glass being applied to gunpowder so enclosed, it burnt
grain by grain, but none of the grains kindled. Another time
when the sun had less force, they would not burn, but only boil-
ed and emitted smoke. This smoke falling on the board on
which the powder lay, was the colour of brimstone. The pow-
der that remained, being put on coals, burned like saltpetre,
inasmuch as the brimstone had exhaled.

335

i and topper melted together weigh more than both bo-
lid before. Yea, orpin being nixed with salts of tartar, is
er by a fifth part.

account for this, it has been commonly supposed, that fire
to the weight of bodies. But fire has itself no weight at
therefore it can give none. Pure fire, as Dr. Hillary ob-
t, is a body without gravity, and has no more tendency to
ne part of space, than to another.

lot then this alteration of weight rather owing to an. alter-
of the inward texture of the particles in the body calcined ?
ighter particles being removed by exhalation, do not those
Ding approach nearer each other ? And must not then the
it, which is always as the solidity, increase accordingly ?
eems strange, to talk of heating cold liquors with ice.—
may be easily done thus. Out of a basin of cold water?
in several fragnients of ice are swimming, taking one or
ind plunge them into a wide-mouthed glass of strong oil of
! : this quickly melts the ice, and by two or three shakes,
juor grows so hot, that frequently you cannot endure to
he phial in your hand.

nay seem as strange, that those parts of the earth which
west the sun should be intensely cold. Yet so it is. For
gher you ascend on mountains, the colder is the air. And
ps of the highest mountains in the most sultry countries
ernally clothed with sntfw. This is partly owing to the
iss of the air, partly to the little surface of earth there, to
: the solar rays.

y different degrees of heat obtain in the same latitude, on
fferent sides of the South American continent : which
that the temper at pre of a place depends much more upon
circumstances, than upon its distance from the pole, or
sss to the equinoctial. Thus, though the coast of Brazil
emely sultry, yet the coast of the South Seas, in the same
le, is quite temperate, and in ranging along it, one does
eet with so warm weather, as is frequent in a summer's
i England : which is the more extraordinary, as there ne-
lis any rain to refresh and cool the air. On the coast of
even under the line, every thing contributes to make the
greeable. In other countries, the scorching sun in sum-
lakes the day unfit either for labour or amusement : and N
ins are no less troublesome, in the cooler parts of the
But in this delightful climate the sun rarely appears ;
ere is constantly a grey, cheerful sky, just sufficient to
i the sun, without obscuring the air. Thus all parts of
ly are proper for labour, while the coolness produced

The Wonder* of

elsewhere by rains, is here brought about by frtdrbreezes from
thccooler regions.

This is chiefly owing to the Andes, which running not far
from, and nearly parallel with .the shore, and rising immensely
higher than any other mountains in America, form on their
sides a prodigious tract of land, where, according to -their dif-
ferent heights, all kinds of climates may be found, at all sea-
sons of the year. These mountains intercept great part of the
eastern winds, which generally blow on the continent of Ame-
rica, .cool that part of the air which comes over their tops, aad
keep it cool by the snows with which they are always covered.
Thus by spreading the influence of their frozen crests, to the
neighbouring coasts and seas, they cause the temperature and
equability which constantly prevail there. But when they leave
these mountains, they experience in a short time an entire
change of climate, and in two or three days pass from the tem-
perate air of Peru, to the sultry atmosphere of the West-India

The sparks which appear on striking Are with a flint ami steel
are discovered by the microscope, to be so many spherical bdk
of iron, detached by the blow from the mass. They are dm
red hot. After they cool, they are a sort of scoria? or dross,

2. Fire is generated chiefly, either by collecting the sua-
beams by a glass, or by rubbing hard bodies against each od*
er. — Either way the subtle matter is collected from all sideif
and put into a rapid, circular motion. This continues togetfc*
er, as long as it is supplied with inflammable substances. Tbi
particles of these being divided by the fire, arc scattered hither and
thither, and the fire goes out unless fresh fuel be brought : as it
does if air be wanting. For as that subtle matter is dissipated cob*
tinually, it soon fails, unless recruited from the air. If water
or dust be thrown upon fire, it is likewise quickly extinguished.
For these interrupt that internal motion which is essential to it-

That fuel cannot consume without air is clearly proved by
an easy experiment. Let a strong, hollow cylinder of iron, b*
fitted with a firm screw at each end. Enclose in this a piece of
charcoal : then screw up both ends, and place it in a strong fire*
Let it stay there as long as you will. Open it when cool, ami
the charcoal is no way diminished. It is plain from this, that
the consumption of fuel depends on the rarefaction and agita-
tion of its parts by fresh air. And hence wciiave the reason o(
the known method of extinguishing fires by smothering them.

3. The watery part of the fuel being rarefied by the heat*
ascends in the form of smoke, carrying with it many of th*
lighter particles, which adhere asa soot to the chimney. Th?
grosser and more compact, the contexture whereof the fire can'
V»*t wholly destroy. n»mnm awl ■.-onstitutr nshes. which arr of

jVature and Providence.

33*

onsl

em

nfemely porous, all that was combustible in it

ilarge a little on this subject. Fire is a body, and a
motion. It is in motion : for it expands the air, which
otherwise he done, than by communicating motion to it.
it it is a body appears hence. ■ Pure mercury enclosed
al, and kept in a gentle heat for a year, is reduced into
And its weight is considerably increased, which can
ing from the accession of fire.

is the instrument of all the motion in the universe. —
t it all bodies would become immoveable. Men would
into statues : and not only water, but air cohere into a
fid mass.

is in itself, it is termed elementary fire : joined with
odies it is called cttlinary. The minute particles of
hing with those of the pure fire, constitute what is term-
re. Pure fire, such as is collected by a burning-glass,
o flame, smoke, or ashes. In itself it is imperceptible,
iiscovered by its effects. The first of these is heat,
rises wholly from fire, and the measure of heat is al-
the measure of fire. The second is, dilatation in all
id rarefaction in all fluid bodies. So an iron rod,
e it is heated, increases the more in all its dimensions,
thtfd^me degree that it cools, it contracts, till it shrinks
rst magnitude. So gold, when fused, takes up more
han it did before. And mercury ascends in a hollow
»r the fire, to above thirty times its former height. The
jgree of heat rerefies fluids sooner, and in a greater de-
an it does solids. And the lighter the fluid, the more it
d. Thus air, the lightest of all fluids, expands the most,
rd effect of fire is motion : for in dilating bodies, it must
10 vc their parts. All motiou springs from it. Only
e away, and all nature would gr^w into one concrete,
gold, and hard as diamond.

fire needs no air to sustain it. Put calx of tin into an
ed receiver, and if you apply a burning glass, the calx
so vehemently dilated, as to break the receiver into a
id piece?.

be effects of elementary fire may be increased. 1. By
; one body against another. And the more hard and so-
)odies are, the more heat is produced. So sponges rub-
ether, acquire little or no heat ; but two pieces of iron,
ise heat. 2. By mixing certain bodies together. So
ings, mixed with oil of clover or spirit of nitre, grow ex-
j hot ; yea, burst into a violent flame,
t doe? not appear that any new firo U erenerated in any of

$38 The Wande* of

these ways. Friction does not create fire, buCBHBollect whu
was before dispersed. It is present every wherlppFall bodies,
in all space, at all times, and that in • equal quantities. Go
where you will, to the highest mountain, or the deepest cavern,
by one or other of these ways fire may be collected. Yea, there
is no place in the world, where the attrition of two sticks will not
make it sensible.

But in what manner soever fire is collected, if the collecting
cause cease, it disappears again, unless it be supplied with fui,
and then it becomes culinary fire. By fuel we mean whatenr
receives and retains fire, and is consumed thereby. The only
fuel in nature is oil or sulphur, and bodies are only fuel, ascot*
taming oil. Hence, 1. All vegetables, not too moist or too dfj»
afford fuel, particularly those which contain much oil, as babor
mic and resinous woods. 2. All vegetable and animal coals, be-
ing those parts which have exhaled their water and salt, and re-
tained the oil alone inhering in the earth. 3. All bituitrinoos
earth. 4. All mineral sulphur, whether pure or joined with oth-
er things. 5. The fat and dung of animals : and, 6, chemicaJ
oil and spirits.

On the removal of air, this fire goes out. Yet it does not im-
mediately bear the air, but repels it, and by that means form*
kind of vault, which by its weight, and the pressure of the in-
cumbent air, confines the particles that would othgfvise 'escape*
and applies them to the combustible matter. Henoe the bean—
er the air, the fiercer the fire ; which therefore is fiercest in still*
cold weather.

The fire in burning combustible matter, affords a shining lire
er flame, or both : and frequently too, smoke, soot and ashes-
Shining fire seems to be elementary fit e, so strongly attracted
toward the particles of the fuel, as to whirl, divide, atteiinit^
them, and thus render them volatile, and just fit to be expelled-
Flame seems to be the T?nst volatile part of the fuel, greatly
rarefied and heated red hot. Soot is a sort of coal, consisting'
of a thick sulphur, and au attenuated oil, with earth and salt-
Smoke is the earthy and watery particles of the fuel, so rarefied
as to break through into the atmosphere. Ashes are the eartb
and salt, which the fire leaves unchanged.

Fire increases the weight of some bodies. Thus if antitno~
ny be placed under a burning glass, the greatest part of it will
seem to evaporate in fumes, and yet if it is weighed, it will be
found to have gained in weight.

But besides the solar, there is a bub terraneous fire. The
earth is only cold to the depth of forty or fiftv feet. Then *1
hegins to grow warmer ; and at a great depth ft is so hot as t<
destroy r^piration. Hence wr* learn that there is anotli^1

Yature and Prouidtnce*

of ^^^^(as it were another sun in the bosom of the

Upon the ^application of fire to water, it boils : that isr the
' ~tjjg$of fire passing through the pores of the vessel, strike
if fewest particles of the water, impel them upwards, and
them lighter than before, both by inflating them into lit-
Mesicles, and by breaking and separating their spherules,
f will of consequence be a constant flux of water, from the
i of the vessel to the top. And hence we see, why the
1 is hot at the top, sooner than at the bottom.
Miner, the air contained in the interstices of the water be-
dilated, and its spring increased by the heat, it ascends
the water into the air, carrying with it the contiguous
sles of water. And by this means much of the water will
fcved up, and let fall alternately, as the air has no power
tp.carry away into the atmosphere more than that small part
tint rises into the steam. «.
-tift* That this subtle matter is plentifully collected in the bow-
eb of the earth, appears from burning mountains. It is ob-
served, that there is always in the neighbourhood of these plen-
Qr*tif sulphur or bitumen, the stench whereof spreads far and
*»r, especially before any great eruption. This feeds the fire,
rfcich may be kindled by various means, so as to contiuue for
**fey ceutnries. Etna and Vesuvius have burned for above two
tousand years, and probably will till the end of time.
5. Mount Etna is divided into three distinct regions, called
Regione Culta, the Fertile Region ; La Regione Sylvosa,
^ Woody Region ; and La Regione Deserta, the Barren Re-

The three are as different, both in climate, and productions,
* the three zones of the earth : and perhaps with equal pro-
nely might have been stiled the torrid, the temperate, and the
ijgid zone. The first region surrounds the foot of the moun-
&Ki, and constitutes the most fertile country in the world, on
I) sides of it, to the extent of about fourteen or fifteen miles,
'here the woody region begins. It is composed almost entire-
f of lava, which, after a number of ages, is at last converted
uto the most fertile of all soils.

Every eruption generally forms a new mountain. As the
preat crater of Etna itself is raised to such an enormous height
*bove the lower regions of the mountain, it is not possible that
the internal fire raging for vent, even round the base, and no
doubt vastly below it, should be carried to the height of twelve
°r thirteen thousand feet to the summit Etna. It has there-
fore generally happened, that after shaking the mountain and

»ts neighbourhood for some time, it at last bursts open its side.

.j4U The Wonders of

At first it only sends forth a thick smoke ancr^^^B of ashes,
that lay waste the adjacent country : these are^QPPollowed by

red hot stones, and rocks of a great size, thrown to an immense
height in the air. The fall of these stones, together with tke
quantity of ashes discharged at the same time, at last fSrm one
of these spherical and conical mountains. Sometimes this pro- (
cess is finished in the course of a few days : sometimes it falb
for months, which was the case in the eruption in 1669. Inthtf
case the mountains formed are of a great size ; some of thea
are not less than seven or eight miles round, and upwards of one
thousand feet in perpendicular height : others are not more this
two or three miles round, and three or four hundred feet higfc.

After the new mountain is formed, the lava generally ban*
out from its lower side, and bearing away every thing before^
is for the most part terminated by the sea. This is the com-
mon progress of an eruption : however, it sometimes happoft,
though rarely, that the lava bursts at once from the side of fk
mountain, without all these attending circumstances ; and tUs
is commonly the case with the eruption of Vesuvius, whew die
elevation being so much smaller, the melted matter is generally
earned up into the crater of the mountain, which then discbsr*
ges showers of stones and ashes from the mouth of the volcano,
without forming any new mountain, but only adding considera-
bly to the height of the old one ; till at last the lava, rising near
the summit, bursts the side of the crater, and the eruption it de-
clared. This has been the case with two eruptions lately ; ha*-
Etna is upon a much larger scale, and one crater is not enougt*
to give vent to such oceans of liquid fire.

A Sicilian gentleman saw, in an eruption of that mountain*
large rocks of fire discharged to the height of some thousand
feet, with a noise more terrible than that of thunder, rfe
measured, from the time of their greatest elevation till ihty
reached the ground, and found they took twenty- one seconds tt*
descend, which (the spaces being as the squares of the time?)
amounted to upwards of seven thousand feet.

After contemplating these objects for some time, says a late
traveller, we set off, and soon after arrived at the foot of the
great crater of Etna. This is of an exact Conical figure, alK*
rises equally on all sides. It is composed solely of ashes, an^
other burnt materials, discharged from the mouth'of the vote*-*
no, which is in its centre. This conical mountain is of a very
large size : its circumference cannot be less than ten miles.— ^
Here we took a second rest as the greatest part of our fatigue
still remained. The mercury had fallen 20. 4 J. We found
this mountain excessively steep ; and although it had appeared
Mack, vet it was likewise covered with snow ; but the surface-.

J^/j^L JS'nturt and Provident** MX

tckily foj^^^^p spread over with a very thick layer of ashes,
brown frmNPRrater. Had it not been for this, we never
Imdd have been able to come to the top.
*/H|e circumference of this zone, or great circle on Etna, is
Btfess than seventy or eighty miles. It is every where suc-
nydtd by the vineyards, orchards and cornfields, that compose
hkltgion Culta, or the Fertile Region. The last zone is much
btttfcder than the others, and extends on all sides to the foot of
^mountain. Its whole circumference is 183 miles.
fe¥he present crater of this immense volcano is a circle of
ifetat three miles and a half in circumference. It goes shelving
iMrn each side, and forms a regular hollow, like a vast am-
phitheatre. From many places of this space issue volumes of
Mliphureous smoke, which being much heavier than the circum-
ftttbient air, instead of rising in it, as smoke generally does, im-
mediately on its getting out of the crater, rolls down the side of
lie mountain like a torrent, till coming to that part of the at-
mosphere of the same specific .gravity with itself, it shoots off
farnontally ; and forms a large tract in the air, according to
thfc. direction of the wind ; which, happily for us, carried it ex-
icily to the side opposite to that where we were placed. The
trater is so hot that it is very dangerous, if not impossible, to
!** down it : besides the smoke is very incommodious, and
* tnany places the surface is so soft, there have been instances,
f people sinking down into it, and paying for their temerity
'itli their lives. Near the centre of the crater is the great
south of the volcano, that tremendous gulf so celebrated in all
ges. We beheld it with awe, and with horror, and were not
■'prised that it had been considered as the place of the damned,
^lien we reflect on the immensity of its depth, the vast cells and
kverns, whence so many lavas has issued ; the boiling of the
B*tter, the shaking of the mountain, the explosion of flamiug
acks, we must allow that the liveliest imagination hardly ever
>rtned an idea of hell more dreadful.

Kircher pretends to have measured it, and to have found it
aUr thousand French torses in height ; which is more than any
f the Andes are. The Italian mathematicians are still more
bsurd. Some of them make it eight miles, some six, and some
Mir. Arnici, the last, and I believe the best who has made this
*tt»mpt, reduces it to three miles two hundred and sixty-four
*ces ; but even tbis must be exceedingly erroneous, and pro-
**bly the perpendicular height of ,Etna is little more than two
*iles. •

It is a curious consideration that this mountain should re-
cite every beauty, and every horror : and, in short, all the most
opposite and dissimilar objects in nature. Here you observe

;UJ The Wonders of ^fc.

u gulf, that formerly threw out torrents of dj^^^V covered
with die most luxuriant vegetation; and from «Hj|Rct of hor-
ror becomes one of delight. Here you gather the most deli-
cious fruits, rising from what was lately a black and barren rock.
Here the ground is covered with every flower ; and we wander
over these beauties, and contemplate this wilderness of sweets
without considering that hell and all its terrors are immediate! J
under our feet, and that but few yards separate us from lakes of
liquid fire and brimstone.

But our astonishment still increases, on casting our eyes oo
the higher regions of the mountain. There you behold in per-
petual union, the two elements that are at peqietnal war ; an ion
mease gulf of fire, forever existing in the midst of snmt
which it has not power to melt ; and immense fields of warn
and ice forever surrounding this gulf of fire, which they fcaw
not power to extinguish.

The quantity of matter discharged from Etna is suppond,
upon a moderate computation, to exceed twenty times the ori-
ginal bulk of the mountain. The greatest part of Sicily sew
covered with its eruptions. The inhabitants of Cataneahflie
found, at the distance of several miles, streets and houses, uttj
feel deep, overwhelmed by the lava or matter it has discharged-
nay, the walls of these very houses have been built of materi-
als evidently thrown up by the mountain. The inference is ob-
vious : that the matter thus exploded cannot belong to the moos-
tain itself: otherwise it would have been quickly consumed;
it cannot be derived from moderate depths : since its auraiing
quantity evinces that all the places near the bottom, must hsve
long since been exhausted : it must therefore be supplied from
the deeper regions of the earth, the undiscovered tracts, whef^
the Deity performs his wonders in solitude.

An eruption of Mount Etna, in 1G69, w.as preceded, foreigb*
teen days, with a dark, thick sky, thunder, lightning, and fr£~
quent tremblings of the earth. The place of eruption w**
twenty miles from the old mouth : the matter of it was a streak
of melted minerals.- boiling up and gushing out, as water doC3
at the head of a great river. Having run thus for more tha**
a stone's cast, the extremities began to crust, and turn into par*
rous stones, resembling huge cakes of sea coal, full of a fierc^
fire. These came rolling over one another, and where any"
thing opposed, filled up the space and rolled over. But they'
bore down any common building, and burnt up all that wa^
combustible. This inundation went on about a furlong a day,
for nineteen or twenty days. It overwhelmed fourteen towns
and villages. The noise of the eruption was heard sixty miles.

On Sunday, March 9, 1775, about noon M<nint Etna began

^ jYa/i/re and Providenci. 34o

cast firo|^Hpouth a great quantity of flame and smoke with
most hofflflenoise. At four o'clock the air became quite
irk and covered with black clouds. At six a shower of stones,
fcb weighing about three ounces, began to fall over the ci-
df Mascali and its territories. This shower lasted till a quar-
t past seven ; and was succeeded all night by a shower of
bqK sand. On Monday morning at eight, there sprang from
if bottom of the mountain a river of scalding hot water,
Uch, in half a quarter of an hour, overflowed all the rugged
id that is near the foot of the hill, and suddenly going ofi*
lithe whole a large plain of sand. The stones and sand
hieh remain wherever this water reached, differ in nothing
tan the stones and sand of the sea, and have even the same
iltness. After the water was gone there sprang from the same
pening a small stream of fire, which continued for twenty-four
oars. On Tuesday, about a mile below this opening, there
rose another stream of fire, which being in breadth about four
oodred feet, overflowed all the adjacent country. ■

6. On the 3d of December, 1754, a stream of liquid fire be-
tfi to run down the side of Mount Vesuvius, from an opening
ft the east side. But it soon ceased running fqpm this orifice,
tkd burst out from a much larger one, about two hundred yards
slow it. Afterward it burst out from a third orifice, and hav-
g ran some space with great fury, the surface then began to
ftol and incrust, as it ran over gently declining ground, till it
me within about ten yards of the top of a steep declivity. —
ere tbe fire collected, as in a reservoir, to supply a cascade,
aich rushed down from thence in a channel of more than twen-

feet wide, and about two hundred yards in length, with a fall

at least fifty feet. After this the stream was less rapid, but
kew wider, and spread several miles from its source. It now
osented a very different scene from what it afforded before. —
he cascade, says an eye witness, looks like melted gold, and
^rs off large bodies of lava (so they term the incrustation)
Hich float down the stream, till the intenseness of the heat lift*
em from the bottom. But in the lower country, it divides i 1-
• smaller streams, running with less rapidity ; and yet with
ich violence, that it drives the strongest stone fences before it,
ad lighting trees like torches, affords a most extraordinary
icmgh dismal spectacle.

On December 23, 1770, about two in the morning, a violent
*ock of an earthquake was felt near mount Vesuvius. Some
rxie after, some countrymen being at work, four or five mile?
Did it, perceived the crround near them on a sudden heave and
*pe, like dough that is ri.*iii£r. At the same time they observ
t smoke i^uiug from the cleft*. They immediately tied. tiir

.U\ The Wonders of

they thought tliey were out of danger. And ifl^DB&ing' back,
saw the water of a cistern, near which they haefflffifn at workf
spout out to a great height. This was succeeded by a large
discharge of fiery matter from the mouth of the cistern, and
from four other openings, attended with a dreadful noise and ex-
plosion of burning stones. On a sudden all the fiery streams
united in one, flowed impetuously down the mountain, and gli-
ding quick as lightning; presently covered all the adjacent lands.
Meantime the whole mountain shook greatly, and a fixed pillar
of smoke issued out of the main aperture, which rising (o a
certain height, then dissolved into ashes, and fell like rain all
over the mountain. At the same time an immense quantity of
burning stones was thrown out.

The fiery stream continued running down the mountain, tbe
whole night between the 23d and 24th. Houses, gardens, and
every thing in its way, were consumed. And ashes were still
thrown out, which lay deep on the ground for several miles
about, and reached as far as the sea coast.

On the 25th also there was an eruption of liquid fire, with a
shower of stones, and a huge noise. In several parts this stream
was fifty spans, deep. The mountain meantime continued iff
roar, and thick ashes fell like rain over the whole country. d
On the 26th, both the mountain itself and the hills lately '1
produced, sent forth stones and ashes, the bellowings were still
heard, but with intermissions : and out of the five apertures, "
two only continued to emit stones, ashes, and lire.

On the 27th, only one fiery stream remained, and that began *
to cool, and to lose its brightness, appearing more dusky, Kke 3
burning coals ready to go out. On the 28th, the stream ran *
much slower, and no more burning stones were cast out. The *
height of the chief hill raised thereby was about two hundred
spans ; and its circumference about two hundred paces. The
motion of the lava in front was very slow ; it gained ground on-
ly on the sides. The hill, where the last aperture was, burst,
and fire issued from all the fissures.

On the 29th, the lava having ceased, appeared to have reach- '
ed about 'one mile in breadth, and lour miles in length. Th*
new raised hills were now quiet ; but the top of Vesnvius still
cast out ashes and smoke, and some showers of stones. About \
eight at night the hill was overturned with a great crack, and j
on the 30th emitted nothing. But from the mouth of Vesuvi-
us clouds and ashes came in great abundance. From the wholf
it appears, that the inflammatory c ontents take fire at a great
depth in the cavern, and it is highly probable, it is the sea water
which feeds this subterraneous fire, by means of some commu-
nications which th«' volcano hn^ with the Mediterranean.

Nature and Providence.

346

Although Jp^fiery eruptions of Mount Vesuvius, strike the
leighbourfadMi Vith horror; yet as even noxious things bring
pme advantage with them, so this mountain, by the sulphure-
m$ f nd nitrous particles with which it manures the ground, and
fie heat of its subterraneous passages, much contributes to its
pttBmon fertility. And wherever these inflammable substances
qjpfid, it is better they should have a vent than not. So ex*
tfaftlbce shews, that this country has had fewer earthquakes,
ffif those less fatal in their effects, since the eruption of the
Mlfrraneoiis matter, through the mouth of Vesuvius. And
$e inhabitants are not much alarmed at seeing the usual vernal
yplosions.

The distance from Naples to the foot of Vesuvius, is 6ve
Italian miles, from whence to the top is near three miles further*
Improperly consists of two hills, though only one of them emits
file and smoke. The valley between them is about a mile long,
and extremely fertile. The burning summit, which is the low-
est of the two, is eleven hundred fathom above the surface of
the sea- From Resina, the ascent grows steeper, and many
ityoe* are scattered about, as memorials of its former devasta-
tions. It is astonishing to think of the force, by which such
balks of four or five hundred weight have been throwu several
tiles from the hill.

This being steep, and covered with black ashes, the accent is
difficult. From the mouth frequently issues a flood of lava,
or composition of sulphur, metals, and minerals. This ejected
Utter lies still, one layer above another, with large stones pro-
jecting above the surface, which in their course along the fiery
river, were stopped by their inequalities, and fixed in the melted
natter, gradually hardened. These streams are not thrown up
from the mountain, like the stones, but pour down as from an
faclined vessel, proceeding, it seems, from the whole cavity,
*hich is then full of melted substances.

About halfway up the mountain, says Mr. Keysber, we met
with stones of above a hundred weight, glowing hot, which when
broken had exactly the appearance of red hot iron. As we went
on, we heard a most horrid noise, resembling the discharge of a
Whole battery of cannon, and under our feet we perceived a rum-
bling, like the boiling of a large caldron. At last we reached
the place where the largest volcano was formerly situated. Bet
H is now not only choaked up, but covered with a round pile of
*»hes and lava. Thirty years since there was a plain of aboqt
three thousand yards to cross before you come to the skirts of
this new mountain. But it is now so enlarged, that in mqsipla-
c*s, the plain is about thirty yards broad. Probably in a few
vtars it will be quite filled up, and the two mountains joined to

44

346 The Wonders of

one. Her* the increase of heat was very sensiblc^especially at
every explosion, when the ashes flew so strongly in our faces,
that we were obliged to cover our eyes. The ground also was
so hot under our feet that it burnt the soles of our shoes. Eve-
ry eruption was attended with a whizzing noise, like that of
many rockets thrown up at once. The clouds of smoke, and
the multitude of stones thrown into the air, totally obscured the
sky. Most of the stones, especially if large, fell again into the
abyss from which they were projected. Great quantities how-
ever fell on the sides of the mountain, and rolled down with t
hideous noise.

Even when all is still, the bottom of the cavity is seldom sees,
by reason of the smoke. When it is, it is subject to great va-
riation. Sometimes it is of a prodigious depth : at other timet
hardly more than a hundred feet, according to the rising and
falling of the melted matter, since the last eruption, by die har-
dening of which this bottom is formed.

Since the birth of Christ, there are recorded upwards of twen-
ty memorable eruptions of Vesuvius. One of the most violent
was, that which happened in the reign of Titus Vespasian, tod
destroyed the cities of Herculaneum, Stabice, and Pompeii,
which then stood near Naples. During that eruption the ashes
were driven as far as Africa, Syria, and Egypt, and even si
Rome the sun was darkened by them. These cities were part-
ly swallowed up, partly buried in the burning lava, so that not
the least remains of them were to be seen.

But within a few years many things have been dug out of
Herculaneum, near Portiei, the king of Naples' palace. Among
these are many paintings done in stucco, in water colours in
fresco. They have been talfcn from the walls of an amphithe-
atre, and temple, and several houses, and are in great variety*
some perfectly well preserved.

Four capital pieces are so extremely well executed that Don
Francesco de la Vega, a painter, whom the king of Naples
sent for from Rome, to take draughts of these paintings, said,
41 if Raphael were alive, he would be glad to study these driv-
ings, and perhaps take lessons from them." Nothing can be
more just and correct. The muscles are exactly and softly
drawn; every one in its own place, without any of that preter-
natural swelling seen in the works of some of the best Italian
masters. And it is surprising to see how fresh the colours are.
considering they have been under ground above sixteen hnn-
dred and fifty vears.

The matter thrown out at Vesuvius, shetrs whence its fiery
eruptions arise. For, pour water on sulphur, mixed with filing*,
of iron, and # it soon breaks out into a flame. That abundant &

Nature and Providence.

Iphur and iron is contained in Vesuvius, appears not only
»m what is ejected, but also from the mineral, water^ issuing;
im the foot of the mountain. The neighbouring sea both sup-
Ie9 moisture to these inflammable substances, as also salt and
Lumen. That Vesuvius has a communication with the sea,
perience shews, the waters being surprisingly absorbed, in
ffM, before the eruption, so that several vessels before afloat
pe left dry. Likewise, in 1698, the sea suddenly ebbed twelve
|fes and the mountain discharged a torrent of bituminous inat-
K. When the discharge ceased, and the sea returned to its
nner height, great quantities of shells, half burnt, and emitting
sulphureous smell, were found along the shore. In another
alent eruption, not only shells, but sea weeds, and hot sea wa-
p. were ejected.

This volcano, however, affords several fresh springs, some of
lich are conveyed to Niples, by a beautiful aqueduct. These
iters have not the least heat in them. Nay, a cold wind is
ll to blow from several fissures and chasms of the mountain.
The whole country for twenty miles or more round Naples, is
je product of subterraneous fires. Probably the sea reached
e mountains that lie behind Capua and Caserta. These fires
em to have worked under the bottom of the sea, as moles in
field, throwing up here and there a hillock. And the matter
rown out of some of these hillocks formed into settled volca-
is, filling up the space between them, has composed this part
' the continent, and many of the islands adjoining.
Were the matter carefully examined, it would be found (just
ttitrary to the common opinion) that most mountains which
e or have been volcanos, owe their existence to subterraneous
vs.

It cannot be denied that Herculaneum and Pompeii once stood
ipve the ground, though now t latter is buried ten or twelve
et deep ; the former in no part less than seventy, in some parts
hundred and twelve. As these were buried by an eruption of
esuvius, A. D. 79, it must be allowed, that whatever matter
i* between them and the surface of the earth over them, must
ive been produced since this time.

Pompeii, being farther off, felt the effects of a single erup-
ononly. It is covered vvitl white pumice stones, mixed with
agment? of lava and burnt mutter. Over this there is a stra
un of good mould, about two feet thick. The shower of pu-
lice stones covered also the town of Stabice, with a tract of coun-
"y thirty miles in circumference. It is observable, the pave-
ment of the streets of Pompeii is of lava : nay, under the founda-
on of the town, there is a deep stratum of lava and burnt mat-

The Wonder* ej

ter : hence it is clear, there have been eruptions before that of
• 79, the first which is recorded in history.

The matter which covers Herculaneum is not the prodnce of
one eruption only. From the strata of monld intermixed, h
appears, that five or six eruptions have taken their course over
that which lies immediately above the town, with which the
theatre, and most of the houses are filled. This is not vitrified
lava, but a sort of soft stone, composed of pumice, ashes, aod^
burnt matter. It is of the same nature with what the Italian!
call tufa, and is in general use for building, and is met with only
In those countries, that have been subject to subterraneous fires.
As water frequently attends eruptions of fires, doubtless the first
natter that issued from Vesuvius, and covered Herculaneum,
was in a state of liquid mud.

Braccini descended into the crater (or hollow on the top) of
Vesuvius, a little before the eruption in 1631. He observer
it was then five miles in circumference, and about 1000 pares
deep. Its sides were covered with brush-wood, and at the
bottom there was a plain on which cattle grazed, and fa tie
midst of this plain was a narrow passage, through which by a
winding path he descended among rocks and stones intoi
more spacious plain, covered with ashes. In this were ihrtt it
little pools, one of hot water, bitter and corrosive beyond meas-
ure ; another of water- Salter than that of the sea ; the third hoc
but tasteless. *

The great increase of die cone of Vesuvius, from that time *
to this, naturally induces one to think, that the whole cone was a
raised in like manner, as was also that part of it now called 6
Somma. It seems, that this was what the ancients termed Veto* *
vhis, and that the conical mountain, at present called by that a
name, has been raiser! by the succeeding eruptions.

JVom repeated observations, it appears, that all the soil in
Ae neighbourhood of Vesuvius, is composed of different strata
of erupted matter, to a great depth below the level of the sea. *
And undoubtedly this volcano took its rise from the bottom of 1
the sea. The soil from Caprese to Naples is of the same sort* *
And that on which Naples stands, has been evidently produced i
by explosions, some of them on the very spot whereon the city
is built. All the high grounds round it, with the islands of
Prochyta and Ischia, appear likewise to have been raised in
the same manner.

Such wonderful operations of nature are certainly intended
for some great purpose. They are not confined to one country ;
volcanoes exist in the four quarters of the globe. We see th*
fertility of the soil occasioned thereby, in what was thence called
Gompania felix. The same is evident in Sicily, justly esteemed

JVafure tnd Providence.

349

ne Of the most fertile spots in the world. May not subtetra-
eftns ftre he considered as the great plough (if we may be al-
tered tfee expression;) which nature makes use of to turn up the
Mfeb of the earth, and afford us fresh fields to work upon,
iliten the former are exhausted ? Perhaps likewise many pre-
Ifes minerals might have remained unknown to us, had it not
fXtoluT these operations of nature.

*jEbere is great reason to believe that the whole island of Ma-
ll*'was at some remote period thrown up by the explosion of
■feerraneous fire, as every stone, whether whole or in frag-
MttB, that is seen upon it, appears to have been burnt ; and
jpmthe sand itself to be nothing more than ashes. And it is
ortain, that part of the country near the sea is a very exact
pedmen of the rest.

7. NearPuzzuolo lies Monte Secco, which is Vesuvius in min-
Vttire. hs summit, formerly a cone, is now sunk into a concave
ml, whose shortest diameter is about one thousand feet, the
QBgest one thousand two hundred and forty-six. It is gene-
rally known by the name of Solfatara. Though Vesevius is
tprive miles distant, yet they have a communication with each
other. Hence the subterraneous fire is quiet at Solfatara, when
it has a vent at Vesuvius : whereas the heat at the former in-
states, when the latter is at rest.

On this mountain are many cracks emittiug smoke ; the heat
Hiring from them is sometimes insupportable. Hold a piece of
tan over one of these cracks, and a sweetish fluid will drop
fom it : but a piece of paper, instead of being moistened, grows
pile dry and stiff. The stones near these cracks are in con-
inoal motion ; and small stones dropped into them are ejected
& the height of twelve feet, like the ponderous masses from Ve-
Qvius. In some places the sand, by the force of the vapours,
firings up and down, like the sparkling of rider.

Out of Solfatara they extract beside sulphur, blue vitriol, and
he best kind of alum. The large leaden kettles used there-
o, are not heated by a culinary fire, but by the natural heat,
ssuing through holes in the ground, over which the vessels are
placed.

8. Not far from Puzzuolo is Monte Nnovo, which rose sud-
ienlyinthe night, between the 19th and 20th of September,.
1636. During a dreadful earthquake, that laid the whole
feighboorhood in ruins, the subterraneous fire, opening a large
•basm in the ground, threw out such quantities of stones, ashes,
ritumen, and sand, as in twenty-four hours formed this mountain,
hi perpendicular height is 400 rods, its circuit three miles.
Hie edge of the first aperture is still visible, a mile in circuit,
fcough it is now entirely filled up.

The Wonders of

9. An event similar to this occurred more lately. Alter a
shock of the earth, there was seen from Santoriui, (an island in
the Archipelago, on the coast of Natolia) on the 23d of May,
1707, as it were a floating rock. Some were so bold, as to go
down upon it, even while it was rising under their feet. The
earth of it was very light, and contained a small quantity of pot-
ter's clay. It increased daily, till it was half a mile in circum-
ference, and twenty or twenty-five feet high. At this time t
great ridge of rocks, dark and black", rose out of the sea, and i
joined to the new island. Then there issued out of it a thick 1
smoke, with a noise like constant thundering, or a discharp J
of many camion at once. The sea water continually bubbled
up , and in a short time the new land presented nothing to view
for whole nights, but a great number of stoves, which cast fori
flames, with showers of ashes, and innumerable small stooep,
red hot. Rocks were also darted out of these burning &*•
naces, which mounted up like bombs. This continued till No- ,
vember.

There is likewise an island among the Azores, which had tk
, same original. On the night between the 7th and 8th of De-
cember, 17i0, there was fell a shock of an earthquake at Terce*
ra ; and presently after an island rose, from the midst of boiling
hot water. It was nearly round, and high enough to be sees ;
seven or eight leagues off But after a little while it sunk, uB i
it became level with the water. 1

10. On June 4th, 1G93, the mountain on the island Torca,tt
the East Indies, began about day break to cast out more fire thin
usual, which continut d five or six days, till at last it poured forth
not only a prodigious flame, but likewise such a black and ml"
phureous vapour, that the inhabitants of Hislo (a village in the
western part of the island, and nearest to the opening) were
wholly covered by it. Quickly followed a stream of burning
brimstone, which consumed many that could not escape. After-
wards the inhabitants perceived a great part of the mountain
was sunk down. Another part sunk three or four days aft**
and so from lime to time, till the burning lake covered near
half the island. Wherefore they went on board their boat*:
from whence they perceived huge pieces of the mountain &D
into the f;ery lake, with a prodigious noise, as if a whole bat-
tery of cannon was discharged The inhabitants of another ]
town on the east side of the island, not thinking themselves in
so great danger, remained a month longer. But the fiery lake ]
approaching nearer and nearer, so that there was no doubt bo*

it would swallow up the whole island, they too fled for their
lives, and a-rived at Amboyna, July the 18th, 1693.

In the mountains of Ternata, a terrible noise is continually

Nature mi Providence.

351

rd. The fire frequently casts out stones, and lies exceeding
p. Probably the burning mountains in the Molucca islands
consumed beneath by the same fire.

Canilla is one of the largest of the Phillippine islands. The
' is much larger than Oxford, is an university, and is inha-
id only by Spaniards. The houses are large, and built very
tag. The lower walls are stone, and of a prodigious thick-
it All above is wood, and every piece of timber has a con-
ipn with the others, and are all joined together, that the
Aquakes, which are frequent, may not throw them down. In

10, they had an earthquake with almost continual tremblings
thr^e months. Then followed an eruption in a small island,
rounded by a large lake, which is unfathomable. The third
r after the eruption began, there arose in the lake four more
ill islands, all burning. About a mile from one of these,
fe is a fire rising continually out of the water, in a part
ere there is no ground for above a hundred fathom.

11. A particular account of a journey to Mount Hecla, is
fen by a late author. We travelled, says he, two days in
gged and unfrequented roads. Then we came within six
les of the mountain, and perceived the ground strewed with
les and pumice of si one, over which we passed to the foot of

The weather being serene and calm, and no flames issued
i of the volcano, we resolved to go to the top ;'till being in-
'med by our guides, that if we w ent any further, we should

id danger of falling into ihe pits, where we might be suflb-
ted by the fumes rising out of the earth, all my company do-
tted it. I told them if they would stay for me I would go
me. They promised they would. So I alighted and prepar-
to go up, when one of them offered to go up with me.
Having given our horses to our guides, who stayed with the
it of our company, we ventured forward, resolving to reach
» top, and in a short time saw a large flight of crows and vul-
<e8, that had their nests in the top of the mountain. Having
fended about a league, we felt the ground shake under us.
d heard a terrible noise rn the bowels of the earth, just as if
pras going to burst open At the same time there appeared

all sides chinks, out of <which issued bluish flames, with a
oifg suffocating smell. This made us turn back, for fear of
ing burnt to ashes. But we had scarce proceeded thirty yards
ck, before a black cloud of smoke ascended out of the moun-
n, obscured the light of the sun, and covered us so thick,
it we could not see each other. Our fears increased every
p we took ; for behind us came flames of fire, with showers
ashes and pumice stones, which fell as thick as hail. This
fadfnl storm was attended with horrib'e noises, and we cx-

352

The Wonders •/

pected every moment, the earth woold opeo and iwallow us up.
This added wings to our flight, so that in a quarter of an homK

we got to the bottom of the mountain.

12. Then* are volcanoes likewise in many of the Americtn^K
islands : and a very eminent one in Guadalnupe. The snm
mit of this constantly emits smoke, and sometimes flames. h^H
rises very high, in form of a cone, above the chain of the moan
tains that occupy the centre of the island. Near the foot of il^B
are three springs, the waters of which are so hot as to boil eggt^m
in three minutes. The neighbouring ground smokes, and is filial
of brown earth like the dross of iron. But the chief place wben^n
the smoke issues out, is higher up, at the foot of a steep banl^.
about fifty yards in breadth. Here no grass is to be seen ; dp —
thing but sulphur and calcined earth. The ground is full ti^F
deep cracks, which emit much smoke, and where you may hew-
tbe sulphur boil. But the stench of it is intolerable. Hk*
ground is loose, so that you may thrust a cane up to the factA—
And when you draw it up, it will be as hot as if you had plung-
ed it into slacking lime.

Ou the plain top of the hill is another funnel, that opened
some years since, and emits nothing but smoke. Here are abun-
dance of large and deep chinks, which doubtless burnt in forms*"
times. In the middle of this plain is a very deep abyss. Iti*
said there was once a great earthquake in the island, and tta*
the Brimstone Hill (so they call it) then took fire. It was pro**
bably then this abyss was opened. It is between two crag;*
that rise above the mountain and on the north side answers »
the great cleft, which goes dowu about a thousand feet perpen-
dicular, is more than twenty feet broad, and penetrates abovtf
a hundred paces in the flat. So that in this place the moan—
tain is fairly split, from the top down to the basis of the cone.

On this plain you may see the clouds gather below, and betr
the thunder rumble under your feet. The great cavern is under
the cleft, and was doubtless formed by the same earthquake tbtt
split the mountain into two parts nearly equal. The partu£
goes north and south. To the north is the cleft and cavern, iff
the middle the abyss, and to the south the burning gulph. The i
cavern is about twenty-five feet wide, as much in height, ui
about sixty paces deep. Within this is a second cave, about *
sixty feet in length, as much in breadth, and forty in heigfit— - *i
Here the heat is moderate : but there is a third cave within drib *
where it is so hot, tha? a torch will give ho light therein, and ■
man can scarce fetch breath. Yet on the left is a great hotbff *
which is sufficiently cool. And the space of one fatboff t
makes the difference. It seems strange, that in the same cave. *
rhrce hundred fcet under ground, if should he «© hot on el* 1

\

wYniurt anil Proiudi iia:. 35i>

side, and so cool on the other. Perhaps the cooi side has some
vent into the great cleft, and receives fresh air thereby.

13. Another surprising eminence, which may be ranked
among burning mountains is the Pike of Teneriflb. On the
sci rami t of it is a hollow, twelve or fourteen feet deep : the sides
sloping down to the bottom, form a cavity like a truncated coue
with its base uppermost."" This cavity is nearly circular, abcut
forty fathoms across. 'The ground is very hot, and from* near
tvmty vents, issues a smoke of a strong sulphureous ^mell.—
3Phe whole soil seems powdered with brimstone, which forms a
fctoutiful coloured surface. Almost all the stones thereabouts
•*e of a greenish colour, sparkling with a yellow like gold.—
Oil the middle of one of the rocks is a hole, about two inches in
dtcuaeter. Hence proceeds a noise like that of a great body of
liquors boiling very strongly. And so hot a stream comes
from it, as will burn the hand, even at a quarter of a yard's dis-
tance.

A. small part of the sugar-leaf is white like lime ; another
Mnall part is covered with salt. But the far greatest part is cov-
ered with snow, almost throughout the year.

The accounts gi\en of its height are exceeding various.—
B*na gentleman some years ago, who measured it exactly, found
the perpendicular height to be two thousand five hundred and
* sixty-stx fathoms.

| 14. When it happens that any inflammable substance takes
J" in the caverns of the earth, the air contained therein is rare-
f fed aud exploded with an immense force. Hereby not only
r the arch which covers it, but the whole body of incumbent
f earth is shaken. And Urn is one species of earthquakes. In

[this casej the deeper the cavern is, and the larger quantity of
ra&tttcr which takes fire, the more extensive and the more violent
the earthquake. If the caveqi is near the surface of the earth,
the fire often issues out of it; and the lower parts being eaten
Way, the ground sinks in, and swallows up houses or whole

Hut, to consider this point a little more minutely. As some

! earthquakes are owing to fire, so are some to air, others to wa-
ter, and others to earth itself. 1 . The earth itself may be the
occasion of its own shaking, when the root or basis of some
lj hrgfe mass being worn away, that mass sinks in by its' owns
H Veight, and cause a concussion of all the neighbouring parts.
Jtj 2. Subterraneous waters wash away the foundations of bilk;
J ted tat far under the earth. By this means many earthquakes
0\ blve been occasioned, and whole cities swallowed op. This
**s undoubtedly the cause of the great earthquake at Port
k>yal, and o£ that which swallowed up Lima- 3. Air pent tip

354

The Wonders of

in the bowels of the earth, if it be at any time rarefied and ex -
paneled, will struggle for vent with incredible force, and thereby
both shake and tear the earth. 4. But the usual cause of the
most violent earthquakes is sulphur or sonic other inflammable
matter taking fire in the cavities of the earth, and bursting
through whatever opposes.

There are scarce atry countries that are much subject to earth-
quakes, which have not some burning mountain. And whenev-
er any earthquake happens, this is constantly in flames. In-
deed were it not that these vents thus disgorge the fire, it would ,
make far greater havoc k than it does ; probably it would make
the whole country for a vast space round quite uninhabitable.—
Yea, so beneficial are these, that wc do not want instances of
countries frequently annoyed by earthquakes, which, upon the
breaking out o£ a volcano, have been wholly delivered frtv
them.

Perhaps what causes most earthquakes of this kind is the <
pyrites, or iron stone, which w ill take fire of itself. The earth,
we know, abounds in cavities, which are at certain times fill/ of
inflammable vapours. Thus the damps in mines shew, which
being fired, every thing as in an earthquake, only in a less
degree. And the pyrites only, of all known minerals, yields
this inflammable vapour* Nor is any mineral or ore whatever

sulphureous, but what is more or less mixed with the pyrites.

But p-obttbly the pyrites of the burning mountains, is moresu^'
phureous than ours. It is likewise in far greater quantities i 91
all the countries round the Mediterranean than in Englaud: *
plain reason why earthquakes are so much more frequent vm ^
more violent there.

An artificial earthquake may be made thus : add twcnK-.1
pounds of sulphur to twenty of iron filings ; mix and temp^^1
these with water, so as to form a |na?s of the consistence of *
firm paste ; bury this three or four feet under ground. In s* s
or seven hours time, the earth will begin to tremble, crack ai»
smoke, and fire and flame will burst through. So that thei — *
only wants a sufficient quantity. x>f this matter, to produce ^
true Etna. If it were supposed to burst out under the sea, * f
might occasion a new island.

To explain this point a little farther. This globe of earth 5 *
bored through with infinite cavities, which branching out like tl» ^
veins, arteries, and nerves of our bodies, pass under the very bo
torn of the sea. Some of them serve to convey water, others *»
more unctions substance, others an ingenious matter, that give*
motion to the whole.

Thus the exterior sea communicates with" the inmost abyss1-
nrrd parses to roots of the Jnlfc rind mountains. ]V|paTi ti"?r

JSatafe anU Proaiilenve.*

air or wind, forces the water into the dark caverns,
s and keeps alive perpetual fire.

not indubitable example of these things ? Does not
?r VVolga, pour such a quantity of water into the Cas-
i the space of one year, a& would be sufficient, were
>me invisible outlet, to cover the whole earth. This
itlet is a huge cavern, that passes under Mount Cau-
tbe Euxine sea. Hereby the waters of die one sea,
;hemselves into the other. 'And the whole kingdoms
l and Mengrelia, are as it were a bridge over those
>us waters.

le Caspian sea has been, on occasion of winds, too
ied into the Euxine, it is replenished from the Per-
, which is a kind of reservoir for it. And the subter-
romumcation betweeiVthe Red Sea and the Mediter-
ow out of all dispute.

r many instances of this have we in rivers ? so late
•s assure us, that the river Niger in Africa is derived
iver Nile, under the mighty chain of mountains of

tin; western side of which mountains, it takes the
iger. and continues its course into the Atlantic ocean.

and deep cave in Mount Taurus, receives the Tigris,
t a passage to the other side. The same river after-
s itself under ground, for near twelve miles, and then
3ut again, disembogues into the Euphrates, near

' nearer home ; the Guardiana, that runs between
Portugal, runs thirty-two miles under ground. Yea,
1 country, the Mole in Surry, falls into the ground
II, and rises again at a "considerable distance,
re may safely collect that the earth is filled with sub-
aqueducts and caverns, full of air and vapour, and
lalations from all sorts of minerals as well as water,
these cavities, there are mountains whose bowels are
lal flame. And their belching out ashes, smoke, bro-
md minerals, argue vast vacuities, and huge maga-
iibustible matter, which are lodged therein. In the
ouutaius called the Andes in America, there are no
'teen volcanoes, by whose burnings, cavities as big as
;doms are made, and receive the cataracts of mighty
nd not only here, but over all the earth there are so
nels, clefts, and caverns that we do not know when
e stand upon good ground. Indeed it might amaze
out heart, could they see into the world beneath theftr
he dark recesses of nature, and observe the strongest
land upon an immense vault, nt the brtttdm of wliieh

The II ondcrs of

runs an unfathomable sea, and whose upper hollows are fille
with stagnated air aud the expirations of sulphureous and l» » —
tuminous matter.

Therefore, as there are no large tracts of land without voIcsm- -
nos and sulphureous caverns, from which, branching into smallt i
pipes, the subterraneous heat is conveyed throughont the earth,
so no country cau promise itself an entire immunity from eartb^^

quakes : even were there no other cause of these dreadful event —

but subterraneous fires. 'Especially, when it is considered, tha^K.
the earth is in one part impregnated witli sulphur, in otheK. 4
with nitre, alum, vitriol, mercury, bitumen, oker, aud clialkjL^
For if any artificial powder, made only of nitre, sulphur an «J
charcoal, has so wonderful elVects, what force must that combues —
tible matter have, which arises from sulphur, nitre, sal ammonia*:-,
bitumen, gold, copper, iron, arsenic, mercury aud other metal-
lic and mineral spirits, with which the womb of the earth abound
when the subterraneous lires break through iuto the holloa*'
vaults, where they are reposited by the God of nature ? Tbet7j
according to the copiousness of these combustibles, and lb«
more or less firmness of the super-incumbent earth, these fire^s
cause tremblings and concussions, or violent eruptions: am*J
perhaps opei: wide aud deep gulphs, wherein whole cities, yer«
mountains, are swallowed up.

Many such instances occur in history. Pliny tells us, that i
his own time, the mountain Cymbotus, with the town of Euri* j
leg, which stood on its side, were totally swallowed up. Her^^-
cords the like of the city of Tantelis in Magnesia, and a/tcr -»t
of the mountain Sopelas, both absorbed by a violent openiiv &
of the earth, so that no trace of either remained. Galanis an <-i
Garnatus, towns once famous in Phoenicia, are recorded to haw *
met the same fate. Yea, the vast promontory, called Phleg*-
um, in Ethiopia, after a violent earthquake in the night, uff^
not to be seen in the morning, the earth having sw allowed ituj*
aud closed o\er it.

Like instances we have of later date. The mountain Picu*=»
iu one of the Molucca's, was so high, that it appeared at a vast
distance, and served as a land mark to sailors. ]>ut during a11
earthquake in the isle, ihe mountain iu an instant sunk into the
bowels of the earth : and no token of it remained, but a v»sl.
lake of water. The like happened in the mountainous parts °}
China, in 155G : when a whole province, with all its towns, c*~
ties, and inhabitants, was absorbed in a moment ; an iminen$t;
lake of water remaining iu its place, eveu to this day.

In the year 164G, during the terrible earthquake in the ktn£$"
dom of Chili, several whole mountaius of the Andes, one aftf*
arratber, where wholly alisorbcd in the earlh. Probably tuaii^V

JVaiurt and PrucuJaut.

of whose beginning we have no account, were occasioned
» like absorptions.

e greatest earthquake we find in antiquity is that mentioned
liny, in which twelve cities in Asia Minor were swallowed
one night. But one of those most particularly described
:ory is that of the year 1693. It exteuded to a circumfe-
of two thousand six hundred leagues,, chiefly affecting
ai coasts and great rivers. Its motions were so rapid, that
who lay at their length were tossed from side to side as
a rolling billow. The walls were dashed from their foun-
is, and no less than fifty four cities, with an incredible
er of villages, were either destroyed or greatly damaged,
city of Catanea, in particular was utterly overthrown,
veller who was on his way thither, at the distance of some
perceived a black cloud hanging near the place. The sea
a sudden began to roar ; Mount Etna to send forth great
, of flames ; and soon after a shock ensued, with a noise as
the artillery in the world had been at once discharged,
ravel ler being obliged to alight instantly, felt himself raised
t from the ground, and turning his eyes to the city, saw
ag but a thick cloud of dust in the air. Although the shock
ot continue above three minutes, yet near nineteen thousand
) inhabitants of Sicily perished in the ruins,
e following account of a dreadful earthquake at Calabria
28, is related by the celebrated father Kircher, as it hap-
[ while he was on his journey to Mount Etna,
laving hired a boat in company with four more, we launch-
the 24lh of March from the harbour of Messina, and ar-
the same day at the promontory of Pelorus. Our desti-
i was for the city of Euphamia in Calabria. But though
ten put to sea, we were as often driven back. At length,
ver, we ventured forward. Proceeding onward, and tnrn-
ly eyes to Etna, 1 saw it cast forth large volumes of smoke,
i entirely covered the whole island. This, together with
•eadful noise, filled me with apprehensions. The sea itself
i to wear a very unusual appearance, covered all over with
es. My surprise was increased by the calmness of the
ler. I therefore warned my companions, that an earth-
? was approaching, and making for the shore, with all
de speed, we landed at Tropae. But we had scarce arri-
t the Jesuit's college in that city, when our ears wercstun-
'ith a horrid sound, resembling that of an infinite num-
f chariots driven fiercely forward, the wheels rattling, and
longs cracking. Soon after, the whole tract upon which
ood, seemed to vibrate, as if we were in the scale of abal-
that continued wavering. This soon grew more violent.

-i.r>^ The II rs nj'

and being no longer able lo keep my ley*, i was thrown \jw*-* m
irate upon the ground. In the mean time.' the universal ruia
around me, redoubled my amazement.- The crash of tallincs;
house?, the tottering of towers and the groans of the dying, al i
contributed to raise my terror. On every side of me, I sai**-"
nothing but a scene of ruin, danger threatening wherever IB-
could fly. 1 recommended myself to God as my last refuge —
At that hour, O how vain was every sublunary happiness
Wealth, honor, empire, wisdom, all mere useless sounds, apr~»
as empty as the bubble* on the deep. Just standing on the —
threshold of eternity, nothing but Got I was my pleasure, anciH.
the nearer I approached, I only loved him the more. AAem."~

some time, however, I resolved to \enture for safety, and run

uing as fast as J could, reached the shore. 1 did not search lonir _
till I found the boat in which I had landed and iny companions^
also. Our meeting was all silence, and gloomy dread of impend —
ing terrors.

" Leaving this seat nf (lcso!a:i;:i), we pro..a uteri our voyage.,
and thenext day landed at Uoehelta, although the earth still con —
thi tied in violent agitations. Hut we were scarce arrived atou*-
iun, when we were obliged to return to the boat, and in aboot x.
half an hour, w e saw the greatest part of the town, and the inn t
which we had put up, dashed to the ground, and burying all it: =r-
inhabitants beneath its ruin>. Proceeding onward in our little
vessel, finding no safety at land, and yet having but a very daii—
gerous continuance at sea, we at length landed at Lipi/iuni
castle midway between Trop.v and Euph.'emia. Here, wherr^"—
or I turned my eyes, nothing but scenes of ruin and horror ^l"*""
peared 5 towns and castles levelled to the ground : StrombaW**
though at sixty miles distance, belching forth flames in an tin1-1-"
sual manner. Hut my attention was (prickly turned to nea*^1"
danger. The rumbling sound of an earthquake alarmed us- — "
It every moment seemed to grow louder, and lo approach n)OrL
near. The place on which we sto^ri, now began to shake m*>=,|
dreadfully, so that, being unable to stand, my companions ii**c
I caught hold of the shrubs war us and supported ourselves ,f1
that manner.

" After some lime this shock ceasing, we stood up in order 1 'j
go to Euph.cmia, that lay within sight. In the mean time*
turned my eyes toward* the city, but could sec only a da *~ .
cloud resting upon the place. This the more surprised us,
the weather was so serene. We waited till the cloud was pr»- - m
, away, then looking for the city, it was totally sunk. Nothh?
but a putrid lake was seen where it stood. We looked ahe
for some one that could tell us the sari catastrophe, but cou -
see none. All was become a melancholy solitude, a scene

\

J\ttium and Providence.

*is desolation. Such was the fate of the city oC Euplwr-
And as we continued our melancholy course along the
, the whole- coast for the space of two hundred miles pre-
1 nothing but the remains of cities. Proceeding thus
we at length ended our distressful voyage, by arriving at

, Of the great earthquake at Port-Royal in Jamaica, an
itness writes thus. It happened on July 7, 1692, just be-
loon, and in the space of two minutes, shook down and
led nine-tenths of the town. The houses sunk outright
or forty fathom. The earth opened and swallowed up
*ople, in one street, and threw them up, in another ; some
n the middle of the harbour. While the houses on one
if a street were swallowed up, those on the other side were
rn in heaps. The sand in the street, rising like waves in
*«, lifted up every one that stood upon it. Then suddenh'
ig into pits, the water broke out and rolled them over and
Sloops and ships in the harbour were overset and lost :
wan frigate was driven over the tops of many houses. All
fas attended with a hollow rumbling noise. In less than a
te, three quarters of the houses with their inhabitants
all sunk under water : and the little part which re-
^d was no better than a heap of rubbish. The shock
r people down on their knees, or their faces, as they ran
t to look for shelter. Several houses which were left staud-
>vcre removed some yards out of their places. One wfiole
: was made twice as broad as before. In many places the
cracked, opened and shut, with a motion quick and fast,
two or three hundred of these opening might be seen at a
In some of these, peopie were swallowed up, in others
ht by the middle and pressed to death. In others the heads
«en only appeared, in which condition, dogs came and ate
• Out of some of these openings, whole rivers of water
ted up a prodigious height : and out of all the wells the
r flew, with a surprising violence. The whble was attend-
ith a noisome stench, and the noise of falling mountains at
tance, while the sky in a minute's time turned dull and red-
like a glowing oven. And yet more houses were left
ling at Port Royal, than in all the islands beside. Scarce a
.er's house or sugar work was left throughout all Jamaica,
reat part of them was swallowed up, frequently houses,
le and trees, at one gap. in the room of which there after-
Is appeared a large pool of water. This, when dried up.
>vered nothing but sa?id, without any mark that house or
had been there. Two thousand people lost their lives :
it been in tbo nhrht.few would hi»ve e^raped. A thousand

7 Vic JfontlLrs of

;i"ros of lan.i wen sunk: one plantation was removed bait" a
mile from lis plan*. Yet tlie shocks were most violent among'*
the. mountains. Not far from Yallhouse, part of a mountain,
after ii had made several leaps, overwhelmed a whole family,
and great part of a plantation, though a mile distant. A large
mountain, near Poit Morant, about a da\'s journey over, was
quite swallowed up, and in the place where it stood, remained a
lake four or five leagues over. Vast pieces of mountains, with
all the trees thereon, falling together in a confused manner,
Mopped up most of the rivers, till swelling abroad, they made
themselves new channels, tearing up every thing that oppose^
their passage, carr ying with them into the sea, such prodigious
quantities of limbrr that they seemed like moving islands. In
Liquania, tin? sea, retiring from the land, left the ground dry
for two or three hundred yards. But it returned in a minute
or two, and overflowed a great part of the shore. Those wlio
escaped from the town, got on board the ships in the harbonr.
where many continued two months : ^he shocks all the time be-
ing so violent, that they durst not come on shore. The noisome
vapour occasioned a general sickness, which swept away ttae
thousand of those who were left.

The following account of this memorable event is j^iven by
the rector of Port Royal.

On Wednesday, June 7, I had been reading prayers, (which I
have read every day since 1 came to Port Royal, to keep up
some shew of religion amongst the roost ungodly people) and j
was gone to the president of the council. We had scarce dined,
when I felt the ground heave and roll under me. I said, " Sir.
what is this ?" He replied composedly, " It is an earthquake.
He riot afraid, it will soon be over." But it increased more and
more : and presently we heard the church and tower fall.—
Upon this we ran -to save ourselves ; I quickly lost him and ran
towards Morgan's Fort : as that was a wide open place, and
secure from the falling of houses. As I ran, I saw the earth
open, and swallow up multitudes of people, and the sea mount-
ing over the fortifications. I then laid aside all thought of es-
cape, and went homeward to meet death in a* good a posture
as I could. I was forced to go through two or three narrow
streets, the houses fell on each side of me. Some bricks came !
rolling over my shoes, but none hurt ine. When I came to my
lodging, I found all things in the same order that I left them, f
went to the balcony, and saw that no houses in our street were
fallen. The people seeing me, cried to mc, to come and pray j
with them. When I came into the street every one laid hold
of my clothes and embraced me. I desired them to kneel dowii
iji :i rincr. am! prnvpj with t npyr an hour, till I was alin^

|(i JSfatUKC and Providence. 3S1

tt$iti*een the exercise, and the heat of the sun. They
brought me a chair, the earth working all the time, like
oiling of the sea, insomuch that, sometimes while I was at
ers I could hardly keep on my knees. By the time I had
half an hour longer with them, in setting their sins beffere
, and exhorting them to repentance, some merchants cfliftie,
desired me to go on board one of the ships iii the harbour,
n the top of some houses which lay level with the water, I
nto a boat, and went on board the Siam Merchant. The
when this happened was exceeding clear, and afforded no
cion of evil. But about half an hour past eleven, in less
three minutes, Port Royal, one of the fairest towns in the
ish plantations, was shattered in pieces, ant! left a dreadful
iment of the justice of God.

rout ten years after the town was rebuilt a terrible fire laid
ashes. Yet they rebuilt it once more. But in the year
, a hurricane reduced it a third time to a heap of rubbish,
led by these extraordinary calamities, which seemed to
it out as a devoted spot, they removed the public offices
thence, and forbade any market to be held there for the
e.

. Lima in Peru contains about GO,GOO persons. In 174T
arthquake laid three-fourths of the city level with the
ad.

, Callao, the port of Lima, containing^ or 4000 inhabitants,
otally destroyed. Only one man escaped, and that by a
singular providence. He was going to strike the flag on
brt, that overlooked the harbour, when he saw the sea re-
o a considerable distance, and then return, swelling moun-
high. The inhabitants ran from their houses, in the ut-
degree of terror and confusion. A cry for mercy arose
all parts: and immediately all was silent,. the sea had
overwhelmed the city, and buried it forever in its bosom,
it the same time it drove a little boat to the side of the fort,,
ft'hich the man leaped and was saved.
. Perhaps we have not in history, many more remarkable
erances than that of this good man. But more remarka-
if possible, is the following deliverance, from a danger of
y different kind.

the neighbourhood of Demonte, as one descends through
pper valley of Stura, towards the middle of the mountain,
were some houses in a place called Bergemoletto, which
e 19th of March, in the morning (there being then a great
of snow) were entirely overwhelmed by two vast bodies
iow that tumbled down from the upper Alps. All the inna-
te ,were then in their houses, except oiv» Joseph Rochia. a

48

&2

The Wonders of

roan of about 50. Two and twenty persons were burie
this mass of snow, which was sixty English feet in height,
men were ordered to give tSiem assistance ; but were no
do them the least service. After five days Joseph Roc
upon the 6now (with hts son, and two brothers of his wif
if they could find the place under which his house am
were buried, but they- could not. However the month
proving very hot, and the snow beginning to melt, this
nate man was again encouraged to use his best endeavou
the 24th the snow was greatly diminished, and he cc
hopes of fiuding out his house by breaking the ice. Fj
down a long pole, but the evening coming on, he proce
farther. His wife's brother dreamed the same night,
sister was still alive, and begged him to help her. j
early in the morning, told his dream to Joseph and his
bours, and went with them to work upon the snow, wh
made another opening which led them to the house they
ed for ; but finding no dead bodies in its ruin?, they sot
the stable which was about 240 English feet distant, a
ing found it they heard a cry of " help, my dear brothe
ing greatly surprised as well as encouraged by these wor
laboured till they made a large opening, through w
brother wen^down, where the sister, with a feeble voice t
u I have always trusted in God and you, that you would
sake me." The other brother and the husband then wei
and found still alive the wife about 45, the sister about
a daughter about 13 years of age. These they raised
shoulders to men above, who pulled them up, and carri
to a neighbouring house ; they were unable to walk,
wasted, that they appeared like mere shadows.

Some days after the intendant came to see them, a
gave him the account that follows. In the morning of
of March, we were in the stable, with a boy six years ol
girl about 13. In the. same stable were six goats, one o
had brought forth two dead kids the evening before ; tlx
also an ass and five or six fowls. We were sheltering o
in a corner of the stable, till the church-bell should i
tending to attend the service. The wife wanting to g<
the stable to kindle a fire for her husband, then clearin;
the snow, from the top of the house, she perceived a
snow breaking down towards the east, on which she we
into the stable, shut the door, and told her sister of it.
than three minutes they heard the roof break over their
and also part of the ceiling of the stable. The sister
her to get into the rack and manger, which she did very
H\ The ass was tied to the manger, but got loose bj

JS'uture and Providence.

g : and ahough it did not break the manger, it threw down
little vessel which the sister took up, and used afterwards to
L the melted snow, which served them for drink. Very hap-
m die manger was under the main prop of the stable, and
sby resisted the weight of the snow. Their first care was
dow what they had to eat; the sister had in her pockets
tn chesnuts : the children said they had breakfasted, and
3d want no more that day. They remembered there
? 30 or 40 loaves in a place near the stable, and endeavour-
» get at them, but were not able, by reason of the snow.
:lis they called out for help as loud as they could, but no
beard them. The sister came again to the manger, after
nd tried in vain to get at the loaves, gave two chesnuts to
wife and eat two herself, and they drank some snow water,
this while the ass continued kicking, and the goats bleated
' much, but soon after they heard nothing more of them.
> of the goats however were left alive, and were near the
iger ; they felt them carefully, and knew by so doing, that
of them was big, and would kid about the middle of April;
other gave milk, w herew ith they preserved their lives.
The women affirmed, that during all the time they were buri-
tbey saw not one ray of light ; nevertheless, for about twenty
rs, they had some notion of night and day : for when the
Is crowed, they imagined it was break of day, but at last the
Is died. The second day, being very hungry, they eat all the
mining chesnuts, and drank what milk the goats y iehicd, which
the first days was near I wo pounds a day, but the quantity
reased gradually-. The third day, bring very hungry, they
.in endeavoured to get to the place where the loaves were but
y could not penetrate to it. They then resolved to take all
sible care to feed the goats, as very i »rtunatel v over the ceil-
of the stable, and ju*t above the manger, there was a hay loft
l a hole, through which the hay was put down into the rack,
s opening was near the sister, who pulled down the hay, and
e it to the goats, as long as *he could reach it, which when
could no longer do, the goats climbed upon her shoulders,
reached it themselves. On the sixth day the boy sickened,
iplaining of violent pains in the stomach fir six days, on the
of which, he desired his mother, who all this time had held
in her lap, to lay him at his length in the manger. She did
and taking him by the hand, felt it was very cold : she then
his hand to her mouth, and finding it likewise very cold, she
e him a little milk ; the boy cried, " O my father in the snow !
! father ! father !" and expired.

^he mother told the sister, the boy was dead, and then laid
in the manger where the sister was. In the mean while the

The Wonders of

milk given by the goal diminished daily. The fowls being dead
they could no longer distinguish night and day ; but according
to their calculation the time was near when the other goat
should kid, which as they computed would happen abont the
middle of April. At length they found the goat was kidding by
its cries, the sister helped it ; they killed the kid to save the
milk for their own subsistence. And now they knew it was the
middle of April. "Whenever they called this goat, it would come
and lick their face and hands, and gave them every day two
pounds of milk, for which they still bear a great affection for it.

During all this time, hunger gave them but very little unea-
siness, except on the first five or six days. Their greatest pain .
was from the extreme coldness of the melted snow water, which
fell on them ; from the stench of the dead ass, dead goat, and
fowls ; but more than all from the uneasy posture they were
obliged to continue in. For though the place in which they
were buried was twelve English feet long, eight wide, and fire
high, the manger in which they sat squatting against the wall,
was no more than three feet four inches broad.

3 9. May we not impute to earthquakes, those huge eaVtW*
in the earth; which are found in several parts of England? Snch
is Poole's Hole, about half a mile from ftuxton, in Derby-
shire, said to have been the refuge of one Poole, a noted rob- I
ber. It is at the foot of a mountain ; its entrance is low and
narrow ; but it presently opens into a broad and lofty concavi-
ty, of about a mile in length. The water dropping from the
roof, congeals into a kind of crystal, and forms a thousand so**"
prising figure?. Here is also a large, clear stone, resembling
alabaster, which the queen of Scots, when here, called her p*!-
lar, and it still goes by that name. Along the middle a strea^*1
of water falls among the rocks, which loudly echoes throngC*
the vault. The most striking thing is, the height of the are!1*
and the spangled roof resembling fret-work. And indeed \be
drops of water, which petrifying as they fall, from icicles, r^~
scmblir.g crystal above, and pyramids hardened into stone be
low, have a surprising effect from the light of the candles : tb^
banging drops dazzling the eyes, as if this mighty arch was co%"
creel with diamonds.

Elden Hole is a frightful chasm in the middle of a field, fiit^
or sixty feet long, and about twenty broad. But how deep*1
is, could never be discovered, notwithstanding all the attempt
that have been made. Mr. Cotton endeavoured to fathom *c
with a line of sixteen hundred yards; bu* in vain. Some sup"
pose these to have been passages, whereby the waters of the de-
luge returned from the surface of the earth to the great aby$»-

There is another effect of subterraneous fires, which has h^71

Nature and Providence.

365

generally imputed to quite different causes. The Giant's
Causeway in Ireland, and all other strong concretions 'of the
nine kind, wheie pillars are formed by pentagon, hexagon, or
piultangular stones, placed one upon another, are commonly
supposed to be formed by a deposition of stony matter from
an aqueous fluid. On the contrary, it is evident from various
considerations, respecting their structure and phenomena, that
they are concretions of a peculiar kind, generated by an igneous
fiid. They are peculiar to volcanic countries, and differ in
rtery respect from the crystals produced by the slow and suc-
cessive precipitation of the stony panicles contained in water.
Their formation is owing to an intrinsic principle of organiza-
tion, operating on an ignifled fluid : on the concretion of which
that principle may be supposed to have operated simultaneous-
ly in a large mass, and to have produced these bodies in the
tame manner, as a leget of metal concretes at once into the mould.

In Persia there is a subterraneous fire of a very harmless
nature. It rises but of the ground, about twenty miles from
Baku, and three from the Caspian sea. The ground is rocky,
but has a shallow covering of earth. If this be any where
•craped off, and fire applied to the place, it catches fire imme-
diately, and burns without diminution, nor ever goes out, unless
you throw cold earth over it, by which it is easily extinguished.
A piece of ground, about two English miles in extent, has this
wonderful property.. , In many parts of it there is a continual
flame: the chief is in a hole about four feet deep and fourteen
in diameter. This is said to have burned many thousand years.
They burn stones into lime, by filling a hole in the ground with
thetn, and then putting a lighted candle into the hole. The
fire immediately kindles, and in about three days burns the
tones sufficiently.

jit is remarkable, that this flame, how great soeter it be, gives
nrither smoke nor smell. There is much naphtha all about the
place, though not just where the fire is.

Doubtless an inflammable vapour issues in abundance out of
the ground in this place. Something of the same kind is found
bft^veen Bologna and Florence, on the side of one of the Appen-
roaes. On a spot of ground three or four miles diame er, there
15 * constant eruption of fire. The flame rises very high; yet
Wl*hout noise, smoke, or smell. In great rains it sometimes in-
ternets, but afterwards burns with the greater vigour. There
ar* three other such fires on the same mountains. Probably
ttay rise from the veins of bitumen.

20. A late ingenious writer ascribes all earthquakes to the
*wne cause, electricity. The impression, says he, they make on
Und and water, to the greatest distance, is instantaneous. This

Tke Wonders of

can only be effected by electricity. In tiie late earthquake*
the concussion was felt through the space of a hundred miles in
length, and forty in breadth, at the same instant. Now what
could throw a tract of land, of four thousand square miles in sur-
face, into such an agitation in a moment ? ISo natural power is
equal to this, but that of electricity, which alone acknowledges
no bounds, neither any sensible transition of time.

The little damage done by most earthquakes, is another argu-
ment, for their being occasioned by a simple vibiation of the
earth through an electric shock. This vibration on the water,
meeting with the solid bottom of ships, occasions that thump
which is felt by them. That this shakes millions of ordinary
houses, and yet noi one of them falls, is a farther proof, that it is
not a convulsion in the bowels of the earth, but an uniform •
vibration, like what we occasion in a glass, by rubbing our fin* 1
ger on the edge; which may be brought to such a pitch, as to '
break the glass in pieces, by electric repulsion of its parts.

There can be little doubt, but some earthquakes are owing to
electricity ; but many more are owing to other causes : \\toK
of Callao, Mima, Port Royal, for instance, were unquestiona-
bly owing to water: those in the neighbourhood of Etna and
Vesuvius, with those in the East-Indies, to lakes of fire. The
grand fault is therefore the ascribing them e ther to electricity, ]
or any one cause, exclusive of the rest : whereas some are ow-
ing to each of these causes : some to several of them acting
conjointly.

21. We have inflammable vapours in England, in three 9 1
four different pieces.

One who accurately, observed it, give9 the following partlcu^*-*
lar account of a huriiin<: welj:

" In the latter end of February, I went to see a spring in t\m 4
road, which leads from VViiran to Warrington. When we cant ^
to it, and applied a lighted candle to the surface of the wate^"" »
there was suddenly a large and vigorous flame produced. Bi* *
having filled a cup with water at the flaming place, and held
lighted candle to it. it went out. Yet the water at that plac^*
boiled like water over a fire: thouph when I put my hand intc^
it. it did not feel so much as warm. This boiling seems to pro—*
cecd from some sulphureous fumes, the spring being not above?
forty yards from a coal-pit, and all the country for many mile^
round being underlaid with coal.

When the water was drained away, I applied the candle tCJ
the surface of the earth where the water burned before. The
fumes took fire and burnt very bright and vigorous, the flam**
ascended a foot and a half from the ground ; and the basis ot
it was as broad as a man's hat at the brims. Jt was not di?-

Nature and Providence.

367

oloured like that of sulphur, nor had any scent. I ordered a
tucket of water to be poured on the fire, and it was immediate-
y quenched."

22. There was a spring of the same kind at Brosely, near
Genlock, in the county of Salop. It was discovered in June,
1711. by a terrible noise in the night, which awaked several
people in their beds, who, desiring to know what it was, rose
ftpy and coming to a boggy place under a little hill about two
kindred yards from the Severn, perceived a mighty rumbling
Hid shaking of the earth, and a little water boiling up through
be grass. When they dug up some of the earth, the water
lew up to a great height, and a candle that was in their hand,
let the vapour on fire. There is now (vi*. in 171 1 ) an iron cis-
tern round the spring, with a cover, having a hole in the middle
)f it* If you put a lighted catidle to the hole, the water takes
ire, and burns like spirits of wine. It burns as long as you
keep the air from it ; but if you take up the cover, it gofes out.
The beat of this fire exceeds that of common fire. Some peo-
ple, after they have set the water on fire, have put a kettle of
water over the cistern, with a joint of meat in it. It was boil-
ed much sooner than it could fre, by any artificial fire. If you put
wood or even green boughs upon it, it presently consumes them
to ashes. The water of itself feels as cold as any common wa-
ter. Nay, if you put your hand into it as soon as the fire is out,
t feels as cold as if there had been no fire near it. But it still
continues boiling up, with a considerable noise.

But this well was lost for many years. The poor man in
'hose land it was, missing the profit he used to have by shewing

used all his endeavours to find it again; and in May, 1744,
taring a rumbling noise under ground, a little nearer the river
tan the former well was, he lighted upon it again. For five
* six feet deep, it was above six feet wide. Whhin this was a
mailer hole, of like depth, dug in the clay in the bottom of
*bich was a cylindric earthen vessel, four or five inches diameter,
toving the bottom taken off, ami the sides fixed in the clay.
Within the pot was brown water, thick as puddle, continually
°*ced up with a violent motion and a hollow noise, rising and
Wliiig by turns, five or six inches. Upon putting a caudle at
[he end of a stick, within a quarter of a yard, it took fire, dart-
ing and flashing in a violent manner, about half a yard high
toUcH like spirits in a lamp, but with a greater agitation. The
pan said it had made a tea-kettle boil in nine minutes, and that
rt Would burn forty-eight hours without any sensible diminution,
h was extinguished by putting a wet mop upon it. And still
tile water felt very cold.

The well lay about thirty yards from the Severn, which in that

368

The Wander* of

place, and for some miles above and below, runs in a vale
hundred yards perpendicular below the level of the count
either side. But 4he well is now lost again, the water
drawn off by a ccyilpit.

23. There is a fire of the same kind at* Pictra Mala, a \
on the Appenines. The flame is extremely bright, co
surface of three yards by two, and usually rises about fou
After great rains or snows, the whole bare patch, abom
yards diameter, flames. The gravel out of which it risei
very little depth, is quite cold. There are four of these 6
the neighbourhood : the middle of the ground whence <
them rises, is a little hollowed, and has iu it a puddle of i
through which there are strong ebullitions of air. This a
not take fire ; but that which rises through the wet and
gravel, flames briskly.

In Dauphin y, and soiree other parts of France, the surf
* several springs take fire in the same manner on the appro?
a candle. Sulphureous vapours undoubtedly exhale fro;
waters : as is the case in the famous Grotto del Cani.

This lies on the side of a little hill, between Naples and
zoli. The sides of it are cut perpendicular in the earth,
about three feet wide ; near twelve feet loug ; five or si;
high at the entrance, and less than three feet at the farther e

The ground slopes a little from this end to the mouth
more from theuce to the road. If you stand a few steps wit
and stoop so as to have your eye nearly on a level with the gr
of the grotto, you may see a vapour within, like that whicl
pears over a chafing dish of red hot coals, only that it is
slugglish and does not rise above five or six inches high. It:
face more distinctly terminated than that of other vapours, b
ces visibly under the air, as if unwilling to mix with it.

The ground of the grotto is always moist ; and so are the
to the height of ten inches. Yet this never increases so
form any drops. While you stand upright, you remark no
more, than a slight earthy smell, common in all subterrai
places which are kept shut. But if you put down your 1
within ten inches of the ground, it feels as if you put it int
steam of boiling water. Yet your hand contracts neither i
nor taste. A vapour simi ar to that in the grotto, rises also
the ground without. Butitis weaker, and does not rise sol
This partly spreads itself from the cavern, partly exhales
the earth.

A lighted flambeau thrust into the vapour, presently goes
yet without any noise or Kissing. The thick smoke wlrict
pears immediately after its extinction, remains floating on th<
pour, and b^ing lighter than it. but heavier than the air al

JSnture &nd Providence

369

treads between both. Indeed common smoke is lighter
air ; but that impregnated with the vapour is heavier,
a young vigorous dog be held down within the vapour, he at
struggles, pants, snorts, and rattles in the throat. But in
\ minutes lies as dead. Carry him into the open air, and
raws in long draughts, as one recovering from a fit, and in
minutes gets upon his legs, and seems to ail nothing. A
. having his head plunged into the vapour, was suffocated
t once beyond recovery. Frogs are stupified by it in three
lur minutes ; yet though they have laid in it a quarter of
Mir, soon recover when placed in the open air. Large flies,
es and butterflies, were longer without giving signs of their
rings, and longer in recovering. A toad resisted the va-
near half an hour, a lizard above an hour and a quarter,
a large grasshopper stired in the vapour, after being more
two hours in it.

i English gentleman kneeled down in the grotto, and leaning
is hands, bowed his face to within two or three inches of the
nd, holding his breath, keeping his eyes open, and his tongue
tie out of his month. He remained thus three or four
ids, without any painful impression, or any sort of taste on
ongue. And hence it manifestly appeared, that this is not a
mous vapour.

e afterwards advanced his face to the surface of the vapour,
took in breath gently. He was sensible of something suffer
g, just like the air of a hot and moist stove. Likewise he
t slight acrimony in the throat and nose, which made him
h and sneeze : but no head-ache, no sickness at stomach,
iny other inconvenience.

is clear, then, upon the whole, that animals die in this va-
, not as poisoned, but rather as drowned, in a fluid not ca-
» of supplying the place of the air, which is necessary for
ration, and equally necessary to sustain fire, as the flame of
hted flambeau.

:. A fire of a strange nature appeared in Wales, about
stmas, 1693. A fiery vapour came from the sea, and raov-
p and down for many weeks. It set on fire sixteen ricks of
at Harlech, in Merionethshire, and two barns, and annoy-
le country, as well as by poisoning the grasi, as firing the
It was a blue, weak flame, and did no harm to the men
tried to save the hay, though they ventured even to touch
An intelligent person who lived near Harlech, informed his
d some time after, " the fire still continues there. It cov-
>ver part of the sea, from a marshy place in Carnarvonshire,
t or nine miles oft*. The grass over which it moves kills all
ner of caitl* that feed upon it ; sheep, goats, swine, cows

1?

The Wonders of

and horses. But what is very remarkable is, that any great
hoise, as beating a drum or sounding a horn, effectually repels it
from any house, or barn, or stack of hay."

25. A much stranger flame than that which issues out of the
earth, is that which issues out of the stomach of animals. The
anatomical lecturer at Pisa, in the year 1597, happening to bold
a lighted candle near the subject he was dissecting, on a sudda
set on fire the vapour that came out of the stomach he bad jut
opened. In the same year, as Dr.Ruisch, then anatomy profit
sor at Pisa, was dissecting a woman, a student lighting him ■
with a candle, he had no sooner opened the stomach, than that
issued out a yellow greenish flame. A like thing happened sow
years after at Lyons, in dissecting a woman. Her stomadi
was no sooner opened, than a considerable flame burst oat ui
filled the place. But this is not so much to be wondered M,
since the experiments made by Dr. Vulpari, anatomical profo-
ser at Bologna. He affirms, and one may see, issuing ftomlfc '
stomach of an animal, a matter that burns like spirits of win4
if the upper and lower orifices are bound fast with a very strong .
thread. The stomach thus tied must be cut, above and infer
the ligature, and afterwards pressed with both hands, so as to «j
make all that it contains, pass to one side. This will prodice §
a swelling in that part, which must be held with the left hand to
hinder its escaping. A candle then being held about half ■ ei
inch from the stomach, let it be suddenly opened by the right n
hand, and a bluish flame will immediately gush out, which will c
sometimes last a minute. In the same way flame may be brofgh *
forth from the intestines.

Nor is it from carcasses only that flames have issued. Thb is
has been the case with live persons likewise. Bartholine, relato* ?
that a popish cavalier, having drank a quantity of brandy <W »s
in a little space, after an eruption of a flame through his movtk e
He relates also the case of three others, who after drinking a
much brandy experienced the same symptom. Two presently 4
died; the third escaped by immediately drinking cold water-
Still more astonishing is the case of a woman at Paris who
used to drink brandy to excess. She was one night reduced
to ashes by a fire from within, all but her head and the eadsof
her fingers. In like manner Cornelia Bandi, an aged lady
unblemished life, near Cesena in Romagna, in 1731, retired in
the evening into her chamber ; and in the morning was found
in the middle of the room, reduced to ashes, all except her face,
skull, three fingers and her legs, which remained entire, wilt
her shoes and stockings. The ashes were light : the floor w»*
smeared with a gross, stinking moisture, and the wall and fur

JSfatme mid Prooidentt.

: covered with a moist soot, which had stained all the linen

• chest.

rhaps a larger account of so remarkable an incident will

* unacceptable to the curious reader.

e countess of Cornelia Bandi, in the sixty-second year of
ape, was all day, as well as usual. When she was in bed,
issed two or three hours in talking with her maid ; then
11 asleep. The maid going into her chamber in the morn-
iw two feet distant from tbo bed, a heap of ashes, and two
ith the stockings on. Between diem was part of the head ;
le brains, half the skull, and the whole chin, were burnt to
The ashes when taken up, left in the hand a greasy and
Dg moisture. The bed received ho damage : the. clothes
wised on one side, as by a person rising from it.
ubtless the fire was kindled within her by the juices and
stations in the stomach, acting on the many combustible
rs, which abound in living bodies, for the uses of life. —
i in sleep, by a full respiration, are put into a stronger mo-
uld consequently are more apt to take fire,
relhi observes, that such accidents often happened to great
ere of wine and brandy. Such flames would frequently
i us, if the natural moisture did not prevent,
doubtedly she was burnt standing ; hence her skull was
between her legs, and the back part of her head was
ged more than the fore part, partly because of her hair,
r because in the face, there were many places out of which
lines might pass.

instance of the same kind occurred at Christ's Church in
whire, on June 26, 1613. One John Hitchell, a carpen-

that parish, having ended his day's work, came home and
to rest with his wife. Her mother being frightened in her

called on them for help. None answering, she started up
raked her daughter, who found her husband dead by her

She dragged him out of the bed into the street ; but the
then forced her to let him go. He lay burning there for

days. Not that there was any appearance of fire out-
ly, but only a smoke ascending from his carcass, till it was

to ashes ; except only a small part of his bones which
cast into a pit.

ace Pett was a fisherman's wife, of the parish of St. Cle-
s, in Ipswich, about sixty. She had a custom for several
of going down stairs every night, after she was undrest, to
e a pipe. Her daughter who la}' with her, did not miss
lithe morning, April 10, 1744, when going down stairs
>und her mother's body extended over the hearth, with her
n the deal floor, and appeared like a block of wood, burn-

The Wonders of

nig with a glowing fire withont flnme. The neighbour? coming
in at her cries, found the trunk of the body in a manner burnt
to ashes. It then appeared like a heap of charcoal, covered
with white ashes, the head, arms, legs, and thighs were also
much burnt. A child's clothes, on one side of her, and a paper
skreen on the other, were untouched. The deal floor also on
which her legs lay, was neither singed or discoloured.

NORTHERN AND WESTERN INDIANS.

Proofs that the Indians of North America arc lineally descended
from the ancient Hebrews.

Exinfted from Uu- R«-v. K. SuiitliW ww uf the lit b;« v. n with *oiu«! udiiilitmai
. rxinar!»>.

In the following remarks proofs are adduced which are thought
sufficient to identify the Aborigines of our country as the descen-
dants of the ancient ten tribes of Israel who were carried "into
captivity 2500 years ago. This branch of the Hebrew family
have long been " outcasts" out of sight ; or unknown as
Hebrews. The questions arise, are they in existence, as a dis-
tinct people ? If so, who, or where are they ? These are queries
of great moment, at this period, when the time of their restora-
tion is drawing near.

1. It has been clearly ascertained in the preceding chapter,
that the ten tribes, as the Israel of God, arc in the last days to be
recovered, and restored with the Jews. The valley of dry bones,
and the two sticks becoming one in the prophet's hand, have
been seen clearly to ascertain this : See Ezek. xxxix. as well as
the many other passages noted in that chapter. But as this fact
is essential to our enquiring after the ten tribes with confidence
of their existence ; I shall here note several additional predic-
tions of the event, found in the prophets ; and not some passa-
ges, which distinguish between the dispersed state of the Jews,
and the outcast state of the ten tribes ; which distinction will af-
ford some light in our inquiries.

When the restoration of the Hebrews is predicted, in Isaiah ii.
that God will in the last days set up an ensign for the nations ;
it is to "assemble the outcasts of Israel ; and gather together the
dispersed of Judah from the four corners of the earth." Mark
the distinction ; the Jews are *• dispersed scattered over the
nations as Jews, as they have long been known to be ; hot Is-
rael are «• outcast;" cast out from the nations ; from society; from
the social world : from the knowledge of men, as being Hebrews-

JYaturc and Provuttmt .

This distinction is repeatedly found in the prophets. The dis-
persed state of the Jews, as Jews, is a most notable idea in the
prophetic scriptures. But of Israel, the following; language is
used ; as Isaiah lvi. 8. " The Lord God who gathereth the out-
casts of Israel, saith," &c. Accordingly, when Israel are reco-
.Wred, and united with the Jews at last ; the. Jews express their
astonishment, and inquire where they Rad%een I Thev had ut-
ftriy lost them, as is the fact. See Isaiah xlix. 1 8 — 22. The
Jems here, while " removing to and Jro" through the nations, in
their dispersed state, had been " left alone" i. e. of the ten tribes.
The latter being now restored to the bosom of the mother church,
the Jews inquire, " Who hath brought up these 9 Behold I was
hfi done ; these, where had they 6een ?" Here we learn that
the ten tribes had, during the long dispersion of the Jews, been
» utterly out of their sight and knowledge, as their brethren. —
This implies the long out cast state of the ten tribes.

Several additional passages will be noted, to show that both
the branches of that ancient people are to be restored. In Isaiah
Xi. after the promise that the dispersed Jews, and outcast Israel
■hell be restored ; the prophet adds, verse 13 ; " The envy al-
so of Ephraim shall depart ; Ephraim shall not envy Judah,
and Judah shall not vex Ephraim." Here the mutual jealousies
between the "two branches of the house of Israel, which before
the expulsion of the ten tribes kept them in almost perpetual war,
shall never again be revived ; which passage assures us of the
restoration of Israel as Israel.

In Jer. iii. those two branches are distinguished by " back-
sliding Israel, and her treacherous sister Judah" Israel was al-
ready put away for her spiritual adulteries, (having then been
-rejected for nearly one hundred years.) But the same back-
sliding Israel is there again recovered in the last days. God
calls after them; " Return, thou backsliding Israel; for I am
married unto you, saith the Lord. And I will take you, one of a
city and two of a family, and will bring you to Zion. "In those
days the house of Judah shall walk with the house of Israel ;
and they shall come together out of the land of the north, to the
land that I have given to our fathers.9' This has never yet had
even a partial accomplishment. Its event is manifestly future.

The entail of the covenant must as surely recover the ten
tribes, as the Jews. Paul shows in Romans xi. the consistency ^
of the rejection of the Jews, with the entail of the covenant with ^ l'
Abraham. And he makes their final restoration in the lfes| "
days essential to this consistency. But this inspired argument
as forcibly attaches itself to the ten tribes, to ensure their reco-
very, as to the Jews. He accordingly there says, " and so all
Israel shall be saved or both branches of the Hebrews shall

3.74 The Wonders of

be recovered. This same point is most positively decided ic
Jeremiah, 30th and 31st chapters, as has appeared in the preced-
ing chapter.

2. It inevitably follows, that the ten tribes of Israel must nop*
have, somewhere on earth, a distinct existence in an outcart state
And we justly info, that God twuta, in his holy providence
provide some suitabW place for their safe keeping, as his outcam
tribes* tipugh long unknown to men as such. There is mm
avoiding this conclusion. If God will restore them at last as h^
Israel, and as having been " outcast" from the nations of ti>«
civilized world for HSjfi years ; he surely ipast have provided «
place for their safe keeping, as a distinct people, in some part of
the world, during that long period. They must, during that pe-
riod, have been unknown to the Jews as Israelite? ; raid conse-
quently unknown to the world as such ; or the Jews would not
at least (on their being united with them,) inquire, " The*
where had they been ?" Isaiah xlix. 21.

3. We have an account of the ten tribes, after their captivity,
which accords with the ideas just stated. We receive not the
books of the apocrypha as given by Inspiration ; but much cre-
dit has been given to historical facts recorded iu it ; as in the
wars of the Maccabees, and in other places. In 2 Esdras, xnL
40, and on, we read ; " Those are the ten tribes which were car-
ried away prisoners out of their cwn land, in the time of Osea,
the king, whom Salmanezer, the king of Assyria, led away cap-
tive ; and he carried them over the waters, and so came they in-
to another laud." Here is the planting them over the Euphra-
tes, in Media. The writer adds ; " But they took this coaniel
among themselves, that they would leave the multitude of the
heathen, and go forth into a further country, where never man
dwelt ; that they might there keep their statutes which they ne-
ver kept (i. e. uniformly as they ought) in their own land. Theff
was a great way to goy namely \ of a year and a half" The wri-
ter proceeds to speak of the name of the region being called
Arsareth, or Ararat. He must allude here to the region to which
they directed their course to go this year and a half s journey-
This place where no man dwelt, must of course have been un-
known by any name. But Ararat, or Armeni, lay north of the
place where the* ten tribes were planted when carried from Pa-
lestine. Their journey, then, was to the north, or northeast.—
This writer says, 41 They entered into the Euphrates by the nar-
row passages of the river." He must mean, they repassed thi»
river in its upper regions, or smair streams, away toward Geor-
gia ; and hence must have taken their course between the Black
and Caspian seas. This set them off northeast of the Ararat
which he mention*. Thouprh this chapter in Esdras be a kind

AofUiW and Providence:

0( prophecy, in which we place no confidence; yet the allusion
to AfcCts learned by the author, no doubt may be correct. And
ttu& seems just such an event as might be expected, uad God in-
deed determined to separate them from the rest of the idola-
trous world, and banish them by themselves into a land where
do inan dwelt since the flood.

1 4« Let several suppositions now be ma&e. Suppose an ex-
t motive continent liad lately been discovered, away nprth-east
^ from Media/ and at the distance of " a year and a halPs journey ;

i m place probably destitute of inhabitants, since the flood, till the
^3 dole of the " casting out" of Israel. Suppose a people to have

2 tera lately discovered in that sequestered region, appearing as we
Apuld rationally expect the nation of Israel to appear at this
period, had the account given by the writer in Esdras been a
feet. Suppose them to be found in tribes y with heads of tribes;

•fli hat destitute of letters, and in a savage state. Suppose among
f their different tribes the following traditionary fragments are by
i^r credible witnesses picked up ; some particulars among one re-
? **i P°n of them, and some among another ; while all appear evi-
incfft dently to be of the same family. Suppose them to have esca-
gsti P*d the polytheism of the pagan world, and to acknowledge one,
irfeX aid only one God ; the Great Spirit, who created all things seen
nfiJ and unseen. Suppose the name retained by many of them for
of (m this Great Spirit, to be Ale, the old Hebrew name of God ; and
vsf at Yohewah, whereas the Hebrew name for Lord was Jehovah ;
? tfeni *bo they call the Great First Cause, Yah ; the Hebrew name
£qjfe| being Jah. Suppose you find most of them professing great rev-
« cam crence for this great Yohewah ; calling him " the great benefi-
ce 4 ■ cient supreme holy spirit," and the only object of worship. —
*vertfl Suppose the most intelligent of them to be elated with the idea
ihef* that this God has ever been the head of their community; that
d. tW their fathers were once in covenant with him ; and the rest of
The A the world were " the accursed people," as out of covenant with
isr cm Clod. Suppose you find them, on certain occasions, singing in
lowft religious dance, " Hallelujah," or praise to Jah ; also singing
jean?? Yohewah, Shilu Yohewah, and making use of many names and
wea d phrases evidently Hebrew. You find them counting their time
th oU ** did ancient Israel, and in a manner different from all other
rom h nations. They keep a variety of religious feasts, which much
hei*.~. resemble those kept in ancient Israel. You find an evening
the* feast among them, in which a bone of the animal must not be
sed broken ; if the provision be more than one family can eat. n
d ft* Qtighbour must be called in to help eat it, and if any of it bo
e Bbe: still left, it must be burned before the next rising sun. You find
Artf*{ them eating bitter vegetables, to cleanse them^elve^ from sin.
M^ji V<m find tliev never e;ii the hollow of the thigh of any animal.

.i7t» , The H'vnUep* rt

They inform that their fathers practised circumcision. Some
of them have been in the habit of keeping a Jubilee. They
have their places answering to the cities of refuge, in ancient
Israel. In these no blood is ever shed by any avenger. Yod
find them with their temples, (such as they be,) their holy at
holies in their temple, into which it is death for a common per-
son to enter. The^ have their high priests, who officiate in
their temples, and make their yearly atonement there in a sin-
gular pontificial dress, which they fancy to be in the likeness of
one worn by their predecessors in ancient times ; with their
breast-plate, and various holy ornaments. The high priest, when
addressing to his people what they call " the old divine speech f \
calls them " the beloved and holy people,91 and urges them to 1
imitate their virtuous ancestors ; and tell tbem of their " belov- '
ed land flowing with milk and honey." They tell you that To-
hewah once chose their nation from all the rest of mankind, to
be his peculiar people. That a book which God gave, was once
theirs ; and then things went well with them. But other peo-
ple got it from them, and then they fell under the displeasue of
the Great Spirit; but that they shall, at some rime regain it
They inform you, some of their fathers once had the spirit to
foretel future events, and to work miracles. Suppose they kid y
their imitation of the ark of the covenant, where are deposited ^
their most sacred things ; into which it is death for any coma**
people to look. All their males roust appear at the temple tf
three noted feasts in a year. They inform you of the ancient
flood ; of the preservation of one family in a vessel ; of this o»
in the ark first sending out a great bird, and then a little one, to
see if the waters were gone. That the great one returned so j
more : but the little one returned with a branch. They tell J**
of the confusion of languages, once when people were bnildtfS
a great high place; and of the longevity of the ancients; tW
they " lived till their feet were worn out with walking, and th*
throats with eating."

You find them with their traditional history that their andeoi
fathers once lived where people were dreadfully wicked, and
that nine tenths of their fathers took counsel and left that wick-
ed place, being led by the Grent Spirit into this country ; tbs*
they came through a region where it was always winter, SW*
and frozen. That they came to a great water, and their w*J
hither was thus obstructed, till God dried up that water ; (pro-
bably it froze between the islands in Ueering's Straits.) You
find thern keeping an annunl feast, at the time their ears of com
beroini; lit for use : and none of their corn is eaten, till a port
nl it is brought to this feast, and certain religious ceremonies
performed. You find them keeping an annual feast, in which

JVatwp and Providences^ 3S»7

men must cut twelve saplin poles, to make a booth. —
>n an altar made of twelve stones, on which no tool may
hey must sacrifice. You find them with the custom of
g and anointing their dead. And when in deep afflic-
ying their hand on their mouth, and their mouth in the

lose you should find things like these among such a people
t books or letters, but wholly in a savage state, in a region
world lately discovered a way in the direction, stated by
renoted writer in the apocrypha ; and having been ever
fd from the knowledge of- the civilized world; would
«itate to say you had found the ten tribes of Israel ?
it God sent them to that sequestered region of the earth,
> them there a distinct people, during an " outcast" slate
sast 2500 years ? Would you not say, we have just such
f evidence, as must at last bring that people to light
the nations? And would you not say, here is much more
:e of this kind, of their being the people of Israel, than
•ationally have been expected, after the lapse of 2500
n a savage state? Methinks I hear every person whisper
assent, that upon the suppositions made, we have found
>st essential pile of the prophet Ezekiel's valley of dry

Chose things arc more than mere supposition. It is be-
they are capable of being ascertained as facts, with sub-
l evidence. Good authorities from men, who have been
d ear witnesses, assure us that these things are facts. But
nquire, where or who are the people thus described?
are the aborigines of our own continent ! Their place,
nguage, their traditions, amount to all that has been hint-
These evidences are not all found among any one tribe of
s. Nor may all the Indians in any tribe, where various of
vidences are found, be able to exhibit them. It is enough
: they call their beloved aged men, in one tribe, haveclear-
ibited some of them ; and others exhibited others of them ;
among their various tribes, the whole have been by vari-
their beloved or ivise men, exhibited. This, it is stated,
en the fact. Men have been gradually perceiving this
ce for more than hah' a century ; and new light has been,
ime to time, shed on the subject, as will appear.

North American Reviewers, in reviewing a sermon of
Jarvis, on this subject delivered before the New- York
ical Society, (in which he attempts to induce much evi-.
to show that the natives of this continent are the tribes of

remark thus; " The history and character of the ^[ndiaii
□f North America, which have for some time been a ?ub>
48

3*8

The Wonders vf

ject of no inconsiderable curiosity aud interest with the learner
in Europe, have not till lately attracted much notice among our-
selves. But as the Indian nations are now fast vanishing, at**
die individual of them come less frequently under our observe
tion; we also, as well as our European brethren, are begtnnitag
to take a more lively interest than ever, in the study of theii
character and history."

In the course of their remarks they add; "To the testimonies
here adduced by Doct. Jarvis, (i. e. that the Iudians are ihm
ten 'tribe s of Israel) might have been added some of our Nc*—
England historians from the first settlement of the country.*"™
Some they proceed to mention ; and then add, that the Rew
Messrs. Samuel Sewall, fellow of Havard .College, and SaoneV
Willard, vice president of the same, were of opinion that ciA^
Indians are the descendants of brae)." Doct. Jarvis notes At
as an hypothesis, which has been a favourite topic with Euro-
pean writers : and as a subject, to which it is hoped the Ameri-
cans may be said to be waking up at last.

Manasses Ben Israel, in a work, entitled "The Hope of b-
rael," has written to show that the American Indians are die ten
tribes of Israel. But as we have access to his authors, we my
consult them for ourselves. The main pillar of his evidence ift
James Adair, Esq. Mr. Adair was a man of established cbtr-
acter, as appears from good authority. He lived a trader among
the Indians, in the south of North America, for forty yearly—
He left them and returned to England in 1774, and there pub-
lished his "History of the American Indians;" and his rea-
sons for being persuaded that they are the ten tribes of Israel-
Remarking on their descent and origui, he concludes thusj—
" From the most accurate observations I could make, in the
long time 1 traded among the Indian Americans, I was forced to
believe them lineally descended from the Israelites. Had the
nine tribes and a half of Israel, that was carried off by Shahna3
nezer, and settled in Media, continued there long, it is very prob*
able by intermarrying with the native, and from their natural
ficK *css, and proneness to idolatry, and also from the force of
exam.de, that they would have adopted and bowed before the
gods of Media and Assyria ; and would have carried them along
with them. But there is not a trace of this idolatry among the
Indians." Mr. Adair gives his opinion, that the ten tribes, soon
after their banishment from the land of Israel, left Media, and
reached this continent from the north-west, probably before the
carrying away of the Jews to Babylon.

A summary will be given of the arguments of Mr. Adair, and
of a number of other writers on this subject. As the evidence
tfven by Jttr. Adair appear? in some respect* the most Inomen, 1

JYaiure and Provide inc.

3*9

inclusive, I shall adduce a testimonial in his behalf,
ir in the West," published by the Hon. Elias Bou-
D. upon this subject, that venerable man says ; '* The
ese sheets has made a free use of Mr. Adair's history
ins ; which renders it necessary that something fur-
1 be said of him. Sometime about the year 1774,
came to Elizabethtown, (where the writer lived) with
ript, and applied to Mr. Livingstone, (afterwards go-
New-Jersey — a correct scholar,) requesting him Ip
manuscript. He brought him ample recomraenda-
;ave a good account of himself. Our political troubles
Britain then increasing, (it being the year before the
ment of the revolutionary war,) Mr. Adair, who was
to Great Britain, was advised not to risk being de-
1 his voyage, till the work could be critically exa-
to Set off as soon as possible. He accordingly took
s in the first vessel bound to England. As soon as
& over, (Mr. Boudinot adds of himself,) the writer
idon to obtain a copy of this work. After reading
?, he strictly examined a gentleman, then a member
congress, and of excellent character, who'had acted
(it among the Indians, to the southward, during the
,'e to the points of fact stated by Mr. Adair, without
know the design, and from him found all the leading
oned in Mr. Adair's history, fully confirmed from his
lal knowledge."

j the evidences of two great and good men most art-
ing in the leading facts stated by Mr. Adair. The
»f Mr. Boudinot (who was for some time President of
:an Bible Society,) is well known. He was satisfied
jtli of Mr. Adair's history, and that the natives of our
le Hebrews, the ten tribes. And he hence published
in the west" on this subject ; which is most worthy
usal of all men.

irious authors and travellers, among the Indians, the

le American Indians are the ten tribes of Israel, will

ed to be proved by the following arguments :

American natives have one origin.

r language appears to have been Hebrew.

* have had their imitation of the ark of the covenant

Israel.

' have been in the practice of circumcision.

r have acknowledged one and only one God. -

r variety of traditions, historical and religions, go th

: they are tire ten tribes of Israel.

JbO The LYondtrs of

7. 'Hid celebrated William Pcnn gives accounts of the na-
tives of Pennsylvania, which go to corroborate the same point.

P. Their having a tribe, answering in various respects, to the
tribe of Levi, sheds further light on this subject.

0. Several prophetic traits of character given of the Hebrews*-
do accurately apply to the Aborigines of America.

10. The Indians being in tribes, with the heads and namiL^"
of tribes, affords further light upon this subject.

11. Their having an intimation of the ancient city of refugf
evinces the truth of our subject : and

12. Other Indian rites, and various other considerations, g«a»
to evince the fact, that this people are the ten tribes of Israel.

1 . The American natives have one origin. Their language
has a variety of dialects'; but all are believed by some gow!
judges to be the same radical language. Various noted authors
agree in this. Charlevoix, in his history of Canada, saysp
"the Algonquin and the Huron languages, (which he saysare-
as really the same, as the French and old Norman are the same}
have between them the language of all the savage nations we
are acquainted with. Whoever should well understand bothoT
these, might travel without an interpreter more than fifteen hun-
dred leagues of country, and make himself understood by am
hundred different nations, who have each their peculiar tongue;**
meaning dialect. The Algonquin was the dialect of the WoW
tribe, or the Mohegan ; and most of the native tribes of New—
England and of Virginia.

Doctor Jonathan Edwards, son of President Edwards, lived
in his youth among the Indian? : as his father was a missionary*'
among them, before he was called to Princeton College ; ami
he became as familiar with ihe Mohegan dialect, as with bi^
mother tongue. He had also good knowledge of the Mohawte
dialect. lie pronounced the Mohegan the most extensive of~
all the Indian dialects of north America. He names not les^
than sixteen tribes, besides the original tribes of New-England-?
as agreeing with the Mohegan. Herein the doctor agrees witl»
the testimony of Charlevoix just noted. Here we find aeo^
gent argument in favour of the Indians of north America, a*
least as being of one origin. And arguments will be furnish-
ed that the Indians of south America are probably of the sam*
origin.

Doctor Bondinot (who for more than forty years was °^
opinion that the Indians are the ten tribes, and who sought an**
obtained much evidence ou this subject, assures us, that the sv'-*
lables which compose the word Yohcwah, (Jebuvah) and Yah*
(Jab) are the roots of a great number of Indian words, through
different tribes. They make great use of these words, and ^

JSlatyre and Providence.

tyllables which compose the names of God ; also which form
word Hallelujah, through their nations for thousands of
«; especially in their religious songs and dances. With
iog and an exact keeping of time, they begin a religious
re thus ; Hal, bal, hal ; then le, le, le ; next hi, hi, lu ;
then close yah, yah, yah. This is their traditional song of
se to the Great Spirit. This, it is asserted, is sung in South
'ell as North America. And this author says ; " Two In-
s, who belong to far distant nations, may without the know*
e of each other's language, except from the general idiom
11 their tribes, converse with each other, and make contracts
out an interpreter." This shews them to have been of one
in.

►u Pratz says, in his history of Louisiana, " The nations of
th America derived their origin from the same country, since
rttom they all have the same manners and usuages, and the
e manner of speaking and thinking." It is 'ascertained that
injection arises against this, from the different shades of
plexion found among different tribes of Indians. " The
nr of the Indians generally, (says doctor Boudinot,) is red,
rn, or copper, according to the climate, and the high or low
md." Mr. Adair expresses the same opinion ; and the In*
s have their tradition, that in the nation from which they
[inally came, all were of one colour. According to all ac-
)ts given of the Indians, there are certain things in which
igree. This appears in the journals of Mr. Giddings, of
jxploring tour. The most distant and barbarous Indians
fe in a variety of things with all other tribes. They have
r Great Spirit ; their high priests ; their sacrificing, when
g to, or returning from war ; their religious dance; and
• sacred little enclosure, containing their most sacred things,
gh it be but a sack, instead of an ark. Messrs. Lack and
lrbotus both assert that they have often heard the Indians
louth America sing "Hallelujah." For thousands of miles
Worth American Indians have been abundant in this,
octor Williams, in his history of Vermont, says ; " In what-
manner this part of the earth was peopled, the Indians ap-
' to have been the most ancient, or the original men of
?rica. They had spread over the whole continent, from the
rth degree of north latitude, to the southern extremity of
e Horn. And these men every where appeared to be the
e race or kind of people. In every part of the continent,
Indians are marked with a similarity of colour, features, and
y circumstance of external appearance. Pedro de Cicca
x;on, one of the conquerors of Peru, and w ho had travelled
ugh many provinces of America, says of the Indians

Jb2 T/tfi WotiiLr* of

« The people, men and women, although there are such a mtfr*
titude of tribes or nations, in such diversities of climates, aj^>
pear, nevertheless, like the children of one father and mother."

Ulloa (quoted by Doci. Williams,) had a great acquaintance
with the Indians of South America, and some parts of NorttM
America. Speaking of the Indians of Cape Breton, in the lair —
ter, he declared them to be " the same people with the Indian^
in Peru." • tk If we have seen one American, (said he) we roaj^
be said to have seen them all." These remarks do not apply toM
all the people in the northern extremities of America. The Es-
quimaux natives appear to be a different race of men. Thiss
race are found in Labrador ; in Greenland, and round Hudson's
Bay. All these appear evidently the same with the Laplanders, _
Zemblams, Samoyeds and Tartars in the east. They probably
migrated to this western hemisphere at periods subsequent ft
the migration of the Indians. They, or some of them, migkt-
have come from the north of Europe ; from Norway to Iceland^
then to Greenland, and thence to the coasts of Labrador, «A
farther west. But the consideration of those different people,
does not affect our subject.

2. TAetr language appears clearly to have been Hebrew, fa
this, doctor Edwards, Mr. Adair, and others were agreed*— *
Doctor Edwards, after having a good acquaintance with their
language, gave his reasons for believing it to have been originally
Hebrew. Both, he remarks, are found without preposition*,
and are formed with prefixes and suffixes ; a thing probably
known to no other language. And tie shows, that not only the
words, but the construction of phrases, in both, have been the
same. Their pronouns, as well as their nouns, doctqr Edwarft
remarks, are manifestly from the Hebrew. Mr. Adair is confi-
dent of the fact, that their language is Hebrew. And their la- !
conic, bold and commanding figures of speech, he notes as ex-
actly agreeing with the genius of the Hebrew language. He
says, that after living forty years among them, he obtained suck
knowledge of the Hebrew idiom of their language, that he view-
ed the event of their having for more than two millenaries, and
without the aid of literature, preserved their Hebrew language
so pure, to be but little short of a miracle.

Relative to the Hebraism of their figures, Mr. Adair gives the
following instance, for an address of a captain to his warriors,
going to battle. I know that your guns are burning in your
hands : your tomahawks are thirsting to drink the blood of your
enemies ; your trusty arrows are impatient to be upon the wing J
and lest delay should burn your hearts any longer, I give yoa
the cool refreshing word ; join tit hrdy atk : aitjrf<ru>ay to cut <jf
the a\ivted swmp."

>

aCvpe anil Ppovidenct:

385

leof words and phrases, is furnished by Dr. Boudinot,
ward* Adair, and others, to show how clearly the Indian
b is from the Hebrew. Some of those Indian words are
>m one tribe, and some from another, In a long savage
ititate of all aid from letters, a language mast roll and
It is strange that after a lapse 2500 years a single
raid, among such a people, be preserved the same. But
i of Providence is strikingly seen in this, to bring that
> light.

allowing may afford a specimen of the evidence on this
:he subject.

sk.

Indian.

Hebrew.

Yohewah

Jehovah

Ale

Ale, Aleim

Yah

Jab

Shilu

Shiloh

Chemim

Shemira

Abba

Abba

Ish, Ishte

Ish

Ishto

Ishto

Awah

Eweh, Eve

Keah

Ka

Liani

T .ihf*n*»

n

Uwoh

Huab

Nichiri

Neheri

a house

Taubana-ofr

Debonaour

Kora

Cora

Canaai

Canaan

Phale

Phalac

Na

Na

rt

Kesh

Kish

Jennais

Jatinon

i

Phaubac

Phauhe

• wind

Rowah

Ruacli

or high mount Ararat

Ararat

PHRASES.

\sh.

Indian.

Hebrew.

4

Heru hara or hala

' Hara hara

\o the First

I Halleluwah

Hallelujah

,/ood
way

i to you

'dace

Natoni boman
Bayou boorkaa
Halea tibou
Ycne hall
Nane gttifete

Natoui bameu
Boua bouak
Ye hali ettouboa
Vongali
'Vance heti

3S5

gi period among savages, without a book or letter:*, a word or
plirase properly Hebrew/should still be found among them. Yet
much, words and phrases are found. And many more may yet be
found in the compounds of Indian words. I have just now ob-
served, in dropping my eye on a Connecticut Magazine for
1803, a writer on the Indians in Massachusetts, in its earliest
Anys, informs, that the name of the being they worshipped was
Ji$»SLrnocko. Here, without any perception of the fact, he fur-
nish os a Hebrew word in compound. Ahba-mocko ; father-
iDOctio. As a tribe of Indians in the south call God, Abba-
Aiingro-ishto ; Father-chief-raan. In the latter, we have two
Hebrew words ; Abba,. father, and Isli, man. Could we make
proper allowance for Pagan pronunciation, and find how the
Syllables in their words ought to be spelled, we might probably
find many more of the Hebrew roots in their language.

3- The Indians have had their imitation of the ark of the cov-
E enant in ancitnt Israel. Different travellers, and from different
* legions unite in this. Mr. Adair is full in his account of it. It
« a small square box, made convenient to carry on the back.
They never set it on the ground, .but on logs in low ground
where stones are not to be had ; and on stones where they are
be found. This author gives the following account of it. —
"It is worthy of notice, (he snys) that they never place the ark
the ground, nor sit on the bare earth when they are carrying
** against an enemy. On hilly ground, where stones arc plenty,
they place it on them. Hut in level land, upon short logs, al-
Way8 resting themselves (i. e. the carriers of the ark) on the
•aixie materials. They have also as strong a faith of the power
ai*d holiness of their ark, as ever the Israelites retained of theirs*
The Indian ark is deemed so sacred and dangerous to touch,
either by their own sanctified warriors, or the spoiling enemy,
that neither of them dare meddle with it on any account. It is
n°t to be handled by any except the chieftain and his waiter, un-
der penalty of incurring great evil : nor would the most invetc-
'Me enemy dare to touch it. The leader virtually acts the part
pf a priest of war, pro iennorr, in imitation of the Israelites fighl-
inK Under the divine military banner." ,

Doct. Itoudinot says of this ark, <;lt may bo called the aik
°£ the covenant imitated/' In lime of peace it is the charge of
tneir high priests. In their wars, they make great account of
The leader (acting as high priest on that occasion) and his
~rHng waiter, carry it in turns. They deposit in the ark some
°* the'.r most consecrated articles. The two carriers of this sa-
cred vvmbol, before setting off with it for the war, purity them-
■f *ve i longer than do the rest of the warriors. The waiter bear*
their ark during a battle. It is strictiv forbidden for anv\i^

in

3843

The Wonders qf

bottbe proper officer to look into it. Aft enemy, if they cap-
ture it, treat it with the same reverence.

Doctor Boudinot says, that a gentleman, who was at Ohio, in
1756, informed him that while he was there, he saw among the
Indians, a stranger, who appeared very desirous to look into the
ark of that tribe. The ark was then standing on a block of
wood, covered with a dressed deer skin. A sentinel was guard*
ing it, armed with a bow and arrow. The sentinel finding the
intruder pressing on, to look into the ark, drew his arrow at his I
head, and would have dropped him on the spot ; but the stran- I
ger perceiving his danger, fled. Who can doubt of the origin I
of this Indian custom ? And who can resist the evidence it fur-
nishes, that here are the tribes of Israel ? See Num. x. 35, 36,
and xiv. 44.

4. The American Indians hare practised circumcision. Doct
Beatty, in his journal of a visit to the Indians in Ohio, betwea
fifty and sixty years ago, says, that " an old Indian informed faint
that an old uncle of his, who died about the year 1728, related
to him several customs of former times among the Indians : and
among the rest, that circumcision was long ago practised among |
them, but that their young men made a mock of it, and it fell in-
to disrepute and was discontinued.79 Mr. M'Kenzie informs,
that in his travels among the Indians, he was led to believe the
same fact, of a tribe far to the north-west ; as slated in the 1 Sttr
in the West.' Doctor Boudinot assures that the eastern Indian
inform of its having been practised among them in times past ^
but that latterly, not being able to give any account of so Strang1^-
a rite, their young men had opposed it, and it was discontinued"
Immanuel de Moraez, in his history of Brazil, says it was prac-
tised among the native Brazilians. What savage nation cotil^*
ever have conceived of such a rite, had they not descended froi^^
Israel.

5. The native Indians have acknowledged one, and only on^0
God; and they Tiave generally vieus concerning the one Grtr ^
Spirit, of which no account can be given, but that they dcrixt^^
them from ancient revelation in Israel. Other nations deslitnt^^
of revelation have had their many gods. But Tittle short of
three hundred thousand gods have existed in the bewildered
imaginations of the pagan world. Every thing, almost, lia^
been deified by the heathen. Not likely to retain God in their*
knowledge, and professing themselves to be wise, they becanK""
fools ; and they changed the glory of the one living God. int(>
images, and beasts, birds, reptiles, and creeping things. * Tlief^
bas been die most astonishing inclination in the world of mau~
kind to do thus. But here is a new world of savages, chiefly*
if not wholly, free from such wild idolatrv. Doctor Bon ding

%V<i}./*jy a tut t*rtf villa tree*

being assured by many good witnesses,) says ol* the Indian*
'ho have been knoWn in his day ; u They were never known
whatever mercenary Spanish writers may ;ave writ i en to the
ontrary) to pay the least adoration to inn-, s or i;..-*.»d persons,
» celestial luminaries, to evil spirits, or . : • uy routed beings
rhatever." Mr. Adair says the sa . :.' assures that '* none
pf the numerous tribes and nations. : luds.-n's Bay to the
MDisissippi, have ever been knoun ».■» a* _\.ipt the formation of
my image of God." Du Pint/ \va* i.:y intimate with the
chief of those Indians called '* the Guardians of (he Temple,9'
tear the Mississippi. He inquired of them of the nature of
their worship. The chief informed him that they worshipped
the great and most perfect spirit ; and said, " lie is so great and

SiwerfuL that in comparison with him all others are as nothing,
e made all things that we see, and all things that we cannot
see." The chief went on to speak of God as having made Ut-
ile spirits, called free servants, who always stand before the
Great Spirit ready to do his will. That " the air is filled with
spirits ; some good, some bad ; and that the bad have a chief
vho is more wicked than the rest." Here it seems is their tra-
'itional notion of good and bad angels ; and of Beelzebub, the
hief of the latter. This chief being asked how Go<^ madt
i an, replied, that " God kneaded some clay, made it into a lit—
e man, and finding it was well formed, he blew on his work,
ad the man had life, and grew up !" Being asked of the crea-
inor the woman, he said, " their ancient speech made no meu-
>* of any difference, only that the man wa£ made first." Mo-
account of the formation of the woman, it seems, had been

ZIHr. Adair is very full in this, " that the Indians have bat one
od, the great Yohewah, whom they call the great, beneficent
t i^reme and holy Spirit, who dwells above the clouds, and who
wvells with good people, and is the only object of worship."
o different a^e they from all the idolatrous heathen upon earth,
to assures that they hold this great divine Spirit as the immedi-
head of their community ; which opinion he conceives they
llist have derived from the ancient theocracy in Israel. He
ssurcs th'it the Indians are intoxicated with religions pride,
call all other people the accursed people : and have time
lu* of mind been accustomed to hold them in great contempt,
^hfiir ancestors they boast to have been under the immediate
government of Yohewah, .vho was with them, and directed
hem by his prophets, while the rest of the world were outlaws,
^ strangers to the covenant of Yohewah. The Indians thus
*e?*se themselves (Mr. Adair assures us) with the idea that God
chosen them from the rest of mankind as his peculiar peo-

It is agreed that within about eighty years, a great change lid^
been produced among the Indians. They have, in this period
much degenerated as to their traditional religion. Their eon— -
nexions with the most degenerate part of the white people, -
trading among them ; and their knowledge and use of ardent
spirits, have produced the most deleterious effects. They have
felt less zeal to maintain their own religion, such as it was ; and
to transmit their own traditions. Remarkably indeed it is that
they did so diligently propagate and transmit them, till so com-
petent a number of good testimonies should be furnished to the
civilized and religious world, relative to their origin. Thb
must have been the object of divine Providence in causing then
so remarkably to transmit their traditions through such numbers
of ages. ' And when the end is answered, the cause leading ta
it may be expected to cease.

This may account for the degeneracy of some Indians far to
the west, reported in the journals of Mr. Giddings, in hit ex-
ploring tour. He informs, " They differ greatly in their ideas-
of the Great Spirit ; one supposes that he dwells, in a bnfiio,
another in a wolf, another in a bear, another in a bird, and an-
other in a rattlesnake. On great occasions, such as when they
goto war, and when they return, (he adds) they sacrifice a dof 9
and V.ave a dance. On these occasions they formerly -sacri-
ficed a prisoner taken in the war ; but through the benevolent
exertions of a trader among them, they have abandoned tbe ,
practice of human sacrifice. There is always one who offi- J
ciates as high priest. He practices the most rigid abstinence. I
He protend* to a kind of inspiration or witchcraft ; and his di- I
reactions are obeyed. I:

"Th?;. a'! believe, (he adds) in future rewards and punish- I?
nient* ; but thtvr heaven is sensual. They differ much in their m
ideas of gnodnc1**. One of thrir chiefs told him, he did n* I«
know what constituted a good man ; that their wise, men, inthtfi >
did not n£r«o. ^

" Their chiefs, and most of tbeir warriors, have- a war saci 1
which contains generally, the skin of a bird, which has a gi** *
plumage ; or some other object, which they imagine to haw t
some secret virtue." ^

Here we learn that those far distant savages have (as have all
the other tribes) their Great Spirit, " who made every thing." *
though in their bewildered opinion he dwells in certain animal*- i
On going to war, or returning, they v.t\i<\ sacrifice ; and for vie- *
tory obtained, must have their religious dance. They BW* 7
have their high priests, who must practise great abstinence, and i
pretend to inspiration ; and hence must be obeved. The; <
have brought down their traditional nolfon* of these things*

\

691

of future rewards and punishments. The ark of their war-
chieftains, it seems, has degenerated into a sack ! but this
e the ark of other tribes) must contain their most sacred
ig£« ; 11 green plumagfe, or some other objects which they
gine to have some secret virtue.9' Here these Indians fur-
i their quota of evidence, in these more broken traditions,
their descent from Israel.

Ftrese tribes in the west are more savage, and know less of
old Indian traditions. Mr. Giddings says, " As you ascend
Missouri and proceed to the west, the nearer to the state of
lire, the savages approach, and the more savage they ap-
ir." This may account for their ark's degenerating into a
Jr ; and for their verging nearer to idolatry in their views of
* Great Spirit, viewing him as imbodied in certain animals.
It is probable that while most of the natives of our land had
sir one great Spirit, some of this wretched people talked of
Hr different gods. Among the natives on Martha's Vineyard,
the beginning of Mayhew's mission among them, we find
010, in his conversation with the converted native, Hiac-
toes, speaking of his thirty-seven go As ; and finally concluding
throw theirt all away, to serve the one true God. We knew
t what this insulated native could mean by his thirty-seven
lis. But it seems evident from all quarters, that such were
t the sentiments of the body of the natives of America.
iThe ancient natives on Long Island talked of their different
^ordinate gods. Sampson Occum, the noted Inditfi preach-
says, " the Indians on Long-Island imagined a great number
gods." But he says, " they had (at the same time) a no-
il of one great and good God, who was over all the rest."
*re, doubtless, was their tradition of the holy angels which
*y had become accustomed to call gods under the one great
Hi. The North American Reviewers speak of the fact, that
e natives of our land acknowledged one supreme God. They
{aire, " If the Indians in general have not some settled opin-
a of a Supreme Being ; how has it happened that in all the
inferences or talks of the white people with them, they have
instantly spoken of the Great Spirit ; as they denominate the
uler of the universe ?"

Lewis and Clark inform us of the Ulandans, (a tribe far to-
*rd the Pacific) thus ; " T^he whole religion of the Mandans
insists in a belief of one Great Spirit presiding over their des-
lies. To propitiate whom, every attention is lavished, and
cry personal consideration is sacrificed/' One Mandan in-
rmed, that lately he had eight horses, but that he had offered
all up to the Great Spirit. His mode of doing it was
i* : he took th^m into fh<* |ilatas», and turned them all lno«e.

392

The fVmderjs of

committing them to the Great Spirit, he abandoned them for-
ever. The horses, less devout than their master, no doubt took
care of themselves*

Heckewelder (a venerable missionary among the Indians 40
years, noted in Doct. Jarvis' discourse, before the New-York
Historical Society, and who had a great acquaintance with the
wide spread dialect of the Delaware language,) says, " Habitu-
al devotion to the Great First Cause, and a strong Reeling of
gratitude for the benefits h j confers, is one of the prominent
traits which characterize the mind of the untutored Indian*
He believes it to be his duty to adore and worship his Creator
and benefactor."

Gookin, a writer in New-England in 1G74, says of the na-
tives ; " generally they acknowledge one Great Supreme doer of
good." Roger Williams, one of the first settlers of New-En-
gland says ; " He that questions whether God made the world,
the Indians will teach him. I must acknowledge (he adds) I
have in my concourse with them, received many confirmations
of these two great points ; — 1. that God is. 2. that He b art-
warder of all that diligently seek him. If they receive any
good in hunting, fishing, or harvesting, they acknowledge God
in it."

Surely then, the natives of the deserts of America must have
been a people who once knew the God of Israel 1 They main-
tained for more than two millenaries, the tradition of Him ia
many respects correct. What possible account can be gi****-
of this, but that they were descendants of Israel, and that til*
God of Israel has had his merciful eye upon them, with a vie"^
in his own time, to bring them to light and effect their restore*
tion ?

6. Their variety of traditions, historical and religious, go
evince that they are the ten tribes of Israel. Being destitute
books and letters, the Indians have transmitted their tradiuoC^S
in the following manner. Their most sedate and promisau— •
young men are some of them selected by what they call tl
beloved men, or wise men, who in their turn had been thus

lected. To these they deliver their traditions, which are m

fully retained. These are instead of historic pages and rel^
gious books.

Some of these Indian traditions, as furnished from good a* **
thorities, shall be given. Different writers agree that the nm- ~
tives have their historic traditions of the reason and manner c» *
their fathers coming into this country, which agree with the ac^*
couHt given in Esdras, of their leaving the land of Media, aft **
going to a land to the north east, to the distance of a year and &
half's journey. M'Kcnzic gives the following arc nun! of th«'

\

JSatujte and Provideuce.

epewyan Indians, far to the north-west. He says, " They
re also a tradition among them, that they originally came
m another country, inhabited by very wicked people, and
i -traversed a great lake, which was in one place, narrow,
dlow, and full of islands, where they had suffered great misc-
; it being always winter, with ice, and deep snows. At the
pper Mine River, where they made the first land, the ground
i covered with copper, over which a body of earth has since
(D collected to the depth of a man's height." Doctor Boudi-
^apeaks of this tradition among the Indians.— Some of them
I that obstructing water a river, and some a lake. Some give
»unt of their getting over it ; and others not. What a strik-
; description is here found of the passing of the natives of
I continent, over from the north-cast of Asia, to the north-
It of America, at Beering's Straits. These straits, all agree,
» less than forty miles wide, at this period ; and no doubt they
re been continually widening. Doctor Williams, in his histo-
pf Vermont, says they are but eighteen miles wide. Proba-
F they were not half that width 2500 years ago. And they
re full of islands, the Indian tradition assures us. Many of
kse islands may have been washed away ; as the Indian tradi-
D says, " the sea is eating them up ;" as in Dr. Boudinot.
Other tribes assure us, that their remote fathers, on their way
this country, " came to a great river which they could not
is ; when God dried up the river that they might pass over."
!re is a traditionary notion among the Indians, of God's un-
fitly drying up rivers before their ancestors. Their fathers
some way got over Beering's Straits. And having a tradi-
n of rivers being dried up before the fathers, they applied it
this event. Those straits, after Israel had been detained for
ime there, might have been frozen over, in the narrows be-
5en die islands ; or they might have been passed by canoes,
some craft. The natives of this land, be they who they may,
I in fact arrive in this continent ; and they probably must
ye come over those straits. And this might have been done
Israel, as well as by any other people.

Relative to their tradition of coming where was abundance of
3per ; it is a fact, that at, or near Beering's Straits, there is a
ice called Copper-Island, from the vast quantities of this metal
■re found. In Grieve's history we are informed that copper
nne covers the shore in abundance; so that ships might easily
loaded with it. The Gazetteer speaks of this, and that an
empt was made in 1770 to obtain this copper, but that the
even in July, was so abundant, and other difficulties such,
it the object was relinquished. Here, then, those nativp*

The Wonfcrs of

made their way to this island ; and brought down the knowledge
of this event in their tradition.

Dr. Boudinot gives it as from good authority, that the In-
dians have a tradition " that the book which the white people
have, was once theirs. That while they had this book, things
went well with them ; they prospered exceedingly ; bat that
other people got it from them; that the Indians lost their cvedit;
offended the Great Spirit, and suffered exceedingly •from the
neighbouring nations ; and that the Great Spirit then took pig
en them, and directed them to this country." There can beat
doubt but God did, by his special providence, direct thev to
some sequestered region of the world, for the reasons which
have been already given.*

M'Kenzie adds the following accounts of the Cbepewyanafr
tion : " They believe also that in ancient times, their
lived till their feet were worn out with walking, and their
with eating. They describe a deluge, when the waters
over the whole earth, except the highest mountains ; on the top
of which they preserved themselves." This tradition of tbeka-
gevity of the ancients, and of the flood, must have been fnm
die word of God in ancient Israel.

Abbe Clavigero assures us, that the natives of Mexico hd
the tradition " that there once was a great deluge ; and Tqai,
in order to save himself from being drowned, embarked in t
ship, with his wife and children, and many animals. That If
the waters abated, he sent out a bird, which remained eatng

* We bare a prediction relative to the ten tribes, which fully
with the thing* exhibited of (hem, and of the natives of our land, h
Amos, viii. II, 12, we read, u Behold the days come, saith the Lord Cod,
that I will send a famine in the land ; not a famine 6f bread, nor a tbM
for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord. And they shall
from sea to sea, and from the north even unto the east; they shall rs»
and fro, to seek (he word of the Lord, and shall not find it.* This pr
cr did relate to the (en tribes. Amos was a prophet to tbem : he
not long* before (heir expulsion, from which they have never yet retui
lie in the context predicted in this expulsion, as then just at hand— Set r*—
1, 2, 14. The famine hem predicted, was to be fulfilled while they f«s^
in their outcast state. This is clearly evident from the whole connect**—-

The prediction implies, they should know they had been blessed
the word of God, but had wickedly lost it ; as a man in a famine "
he has had bread or food, but now has it not. It implies, they
something what they have lost, and shall wander. They shall rare fi
sea to sea; from the north even to the east. They shall set off a ao
course, and thence east ; or be led to wander in a north-east direction
far as they can wander ; from the Mediterranean, whence they set oot,!^
the extremest sea in the opposite direction north-east; to the Fmb*»
Ocean; over its straits to the pacific ; and to the Atlantic Thefts**2
run to and fro, over all the vast regions, the dreary wilds, which he be-
tween those extreme seas. They shall retain some fire n era I correct tir*
»i God ; but tlw stall find thev bav* lost his j-ord. This thev shall 0* ~"

JVtfftu?. and -Prgwdewet.

wd bodies. He then sent out a little bird, which returned
Lb a small branch."

Doctor Beatty says, that an Indian in Ohio informed, that

• of their traditions was. " Once the waters had overflowed
"the land, and drowned all the people then living, except a
Rj wbo made a great canoe and were saved."

SFhis Indian added, to Doctor Beatty, that " a long time ago,
L people went to build a high place ; that while they were
■ding, they lost their language, and could not understand

* other,"

Ihoctor Boudinoi assures us that two ministers of his acquaint-
pb informed him, that they being among the Indians away
vfcrd the Mississippi, the Indians there (who never before saw
White man,) informed him, that one of their traditions was, —
peat while ago they bad a common father, who had the other
nle under him. That he had twelve suns by whom he ad-
iMtered his government ; but the sons behaving illy, they lost
m government over the other people. This the two ministers
Keived to be a pretty evident traditionary notion concerning
eftb and his twelve sons.

Various traditions of the Indians strikingly denote their He-*
BW extraction. Doctor Beatty (mentioned by Mr. Boudinot)
farms of their feast, called the hunter's feast : answering, he
Inks, to the Pentecost in ancient Israel. He describes it as
tbws:

They choose twelve men, wbo provide twelve deer. Each

n, till their long famine shall close in the last days. How exactly does
s prophecy accord with J.he account noted in Ksdras, and with the In-
n-tradition, which meets it ; of their fathers being led into this couo-
'1 They have indeed wandered north-east, and from north to east, and
rth; front sea to sea, and from the river to the ends of the earth. They
run to and fro in a famine of the word ; retaining- some general view
God, and of their ancient blessings under him. lint their famine and
*age state have still continued. From their savage high priests they
?e sought the word of the Lord, and from their vague traditions ; but
rj'have not found it.

Hut the following chapter in Amos, engages they si mil find again the holy
teles— ix. 13 — 15. " Behold, the days come, .saith the Lord, that the
dghman shall overtake thu reaper, and the t reader of grapes him that
rethseed; and t lie mountain shall drop sweet wine; and all the hills
tllinelt. And I will bring again the captivity of my people Israel; and
9 shall build the waste cities and inhabit them, and they shall plant vioc-
itls and drink the wine thereof ; they shall also make gardens and eal
' fruit of them. And I will plant them upon their land ; and they shaW
more be polled np out of their land, which I have given them, saith the
thy God.1' Here are the rapid scenes, the melting missionary evcuts
our day. Here is the succeeding recovery of the tribes of Israel. Here
he planting of them in their own land, and their permanent residence
**, to the end of the world. Never has this, restoration Imd ereo a pri-
ry accomplishment.

W*« Wonders of

of the twelve men cuts a sapliu ; with these they turui a teut.
covered with blankets. They then choose twelve stones for an
altar of sacrifice. Some tribes, he observes, choose but cm
mm, ten poles, and ten stones. Here seems an evident allusion
to the twelve tribes ; and also to some idea of the ten separate
tribes of Israel. Upon the stones of their altar, they suffered
no tool to pass. No tool might pass upon a certain altar hi
Israel. The middle joint of the thigh of their game, Doctaf
Beatty informs, the Indians refuse to eat. Thus did ancient Is-
rael, after the angel had touched the hollow of Jacob's thigh ■
the sinew that thrank: Gen. xxxii. 25,31,32. " lu short,
(says Doctor Beatty,) I was astonished to find so many of the
Jewish customs prevailing among them ; and began to conclude
there was some affinity between them and the Jews."

Col. Smith, in his history of New-Jersey, says of another!*
«ion of Indians, " They never eat of the hollow of the thigh of
any thing they kill." Charlevoix speaking of Indians still far-
ther to the north, says, he met with people who could not help
thinking that the Indians were descended from the Hebrews,
and found in every thing some affinity between them. Some
things he states ; as on certain meals, neglecting the use of
knives; not breaking a bone of the animal they eat; never est*
iug the part under the lower joint of the thigh ; but throwingk
away. Such are their traditions from their ancient fathers.
Other travellers among them speak of their peculiar evening
feast, in which no bone of their sacrifice may be broken. No
hone might be broken of the«ancient paschal lamb in Israel,
which was eaten iu the evening.

Different men who had been eye witnesses, speak of this, and
other feasts, resembling the feasts in Israel : and tell us relathc
to this peculiar evening feast, that if one family cannot eat all
they have prepared, a neighbouring family is invited to partake
with them ; and if any of it be still left, it must be burned before
the next rising sun. None who read the law of the passovcr,
can doubt the origin of this.

A christian friend of mine informs me, that he some tine
since read in a book which he now cannot name, the account of
n man taken at Quebec, in Montgomery's defeat ; of his being
carried far to the north-west by Indians ; and of a feast which
they keep, in which each had his portion in a bowl ; that be
was charged to he very careful not to injure a bone of it; that
each must eat all his bowl full, or must burn what was left on a
Are, burning in the midst for this purpose. The object of the
feast he knew not.

The Indians have their feasts of first ripe fruits, or of grceo
corn ; and will eat none of their corn till a part is thus given to

CVature atul Providence-

397

God. The celebrated Penn, Mr. Adair, and Col. Smith, with
others, unite in these testimonies. In these Indian feasts they
have their sacred songs and dancess ; singing Halleluyah,
Yohewah, in the syllables which compose the words. What
other nation, besides the Hebrews and Indians ever, in this man-
ner, attempted the worship of Jehovah ? The author of the
£t Star in the west" says ; " May we not suppose that these In-
jfens formerly understood .the psalms and divine hymns? —
4Mierwise, how came it to pass, that some of all the inhabitants
tft? the extensive regions of North and South America have,
and retain, these very expressive Hebrew words, and repeat
torn so distinctly ; using them after the manner of the Hebrews,
tm their religious acclamations ?"

The Indian feast of harvest, and annual expiation of sin, is
described by these writers ; and in a way which enforces the
conviction that they derived them from ancient Israel. Details
are given in the Star in the West. My limits will permit only
lo hint at them. The detailed accounts are worth peru-

An Indian daily sacrifice is described. They throw a small
piece of the fattest of their meat into the fire, before they
eat. They draw their newly killed Venison through the fire.
The blood they often burn. It is with them a horrid abom-
ination to eat the blood of their game. This was a Hebrew
law.

A particular or two of their feasts shall be noticed. Doctor
Beatty gives an account of what he saw among the Indians
north-west of the Ohio. He says ; " Before they make use of
any of the first fruits of the ground, twelve of their old men
meet ; when a deer and some of the first fruits are provided.
The deer is divided into twelve parts ; and the corn beaten in a
morter, and prepared for use by boiling or baking, under the
ashes, and of course unleavened. This also is divided into
twelve parts. Then these (twelve) men hold up the venison,
and fruits, and prey, with their faces to the east, acknowledging
(as is supposed,) the bounty of God to them. It is then eaten.
After this they freely enjoy the fruits of the earth. On the
evening of the same day, (the Doctor adds) they have another
public feast which looks like the passover. A great quantity
of venison is provided, with other things dressed in their usual
way, and distributed to all the guests ; of which they eat freely
that evening. But that which is left is thrown into the fire and
burned ; as none of it must remain till sun rise the next day ;
nor must a bone of the venison be broken."

Mr. Boudinot, says, " It is fresh in the memory of the old
traders, (among the Indians) as we are assured by those who

The Wo timers of

have long lived among them, that formerly none of the nume*
roos nations of Indians, would.eat, or even handle'any part of the
new harvest, till some of it had been offered op at the yearly
festival by the beloved man (high priest) or those of his ap-
pointment at the plantation ; even though the light harvest of
the past year should almost have forced them to give their wo-
men and children of the ripening fruit* iff sustain life." Who
that reads the laws of Moses, can doubt the origin of these h-
dian traditions ?

The Hebrews were commanded to eat their passover with
bitter herbs : Exod. xii. 8. The Indians have a notable cus-
tom of purifying themselves with bitter herbs and roots. D»
scribing one of their feasts, the writer says, "At the end of tk
notable dance, the old beloved women return home to hasten tk
feast. In the mean time every one at the temple drinks plenti-
fully of the Cussena, and other bitter liquids, to cleanse their
sinful bodies, as they suppose."

The Indians have their traditionary notion clearly allodiqg
to the death of Abel, by the murderous hand of Cain ; as weD
as one alluding to the longevity of the ancients.

More full accounts are given by some of these authors, of tk
Arthi-magus of the Indians — their high priest. As the high
priest in Israel was inducted into office by various ceremonief,
and by anointing ; so is the Indian high priest by purificaJioa,
and by anointing. When the holy garments are put upon bin,
bear's oil is poured on his head. And it is stated that tk
high priests have their resemblance of the various ornament!
worn by the ancient high priests; and even a resemblance of
the breast-plate. These men have been called by the whit
people, ignorant of Indian customs, jugglers. Hut they ait
now ascertained by good witnesses, as a inauifc?t though cor-
rupt succession of the high priesthood in ancient Israel. Bar-
tram says, those, with inferior priests and prophets have beeft
maintained in most if not in all the tribes.

The Indian high priest makes his yearly atonement for sin*
He appears at their temple, (such as it is,) arrayed in his wbte
deer skin garments, seeming to answer to the ancient ephod-
Entering on his duty, the waiter spreads a white seat with »
white dressed buckskin, close by the holiest apartment of theitf"
temple : and puts on his white beads offered by the people. A-
variety of curious things are described in this dress, by Mr-_
Adair as pretty evidently designed imitations of the parti ot
ai...ent pontifical dress, which it would exceed my limits to de—
scribe. This dress is left in the holy place of their temple, til*
the high priest comes to officiate again. His breastplate is
made of a white conch shell, through which two straps of ott^r

JVutuve W Provi/kiice^

n pass in two perforations ; while white buttons of back's
rn are superadded, as though in immitation of the precious
mes on the ancient breast-plate. A swan skin wreath odorns
i head, instead of the ancient plate of gold. And for the an-
nt tiara, the Archi-magus, has his tuft of white feathers. His
ly fire lie obtains by rubbing two sticks together ; and bis
Men bells and pomegranates are formed of the dried spars of
Id turkeys, strung so as to rattle on his fine mocasins.
Mr. Adair assures us, when the Indian Archi-magus (high
ieftt) in addressing his people, and enforcing "the divine
wch," that he calls them "the beloved and holy people/9
Cording to the language concerning ancient Israel. He ur-
■ them " to imitate their virtuous ancestors," and " flourishes
on their beloved land, flowing with milk and honey"
|fr. Adair describes the Indian feasts, and speaks of them as
aring a very near resemblance of the stated feasts in ancient
ael. He gives accounts that when the Indians are about to
gage in war, they have their preparatory sacrifices, purifica-
W, and fastings. He speaks of their daily sacrifice, their ab-
jons, marriages, divorces, burials, mournings for the dead,
parations of women, and punishment of various crimes, as be-
jj, in his opinion, manifestly of Hebrew origin.
Their reckonings of time, Mr. Adair viewed as evidently. He-
ew. They begin their year, as did Israel, at the first ap-
arance of new moon after the vernal equinox. They reckon
f the four seasons, and by the sub-divisions of the moons.
Bartram says, the Indians believe their high priests have in-
nate communion with the world of spirits ; and that no great
sign is formed by the Indians without his counsel.
The Assinipoils, far to the west, we learn in Capt. Carver's
ivels among the western Indians, have their high priest, who
etends to great intimacy with the Great Spirit, and to be
le to foretel future events ; as is the case with the Killisti-
se, at the Grand Portage. Certain things he thus found,
long different Indians, which show them to have been of the
me origin

Within about eighty years, men inform, that these rites of the
gh priests have been more neglected. The Indians inform.
*t in 1747, the high priest in the Natchez, was struck dead by
rhtning, while using his invocation for rain. They suppose
a Great Spirit to have been angry with him for some impu-
y ; and with the " darting fire and threatening voice," took
m away ; and forbid tiiem to renew the like attempt.
Bartram gives a description of a southern Indian temple. It
^ square of small building in the centre of their Indian town,
"ic <ftnaJI Hmldinu-; oar *tory cQver nerhaps half an acre.

400

'Hhe Wandtm of

more or less, according to the strength of tbe tribe, lu oue of
these buildings they hold their councils. A part of this build-
ing is shut up as a holy of holies ; and it is death for any but
the high priests, to enter it. Here they deposit their most sa-
cred things ; as the physic-pot, rattles, chaplets, eagles9 tail,
and pipe of peace.

To this temple 41 the males (as in ancient Israel) are obliged
to assemble three times a year : viz. at the feast of the first ripe
fruits ; at the feast for the success of hunting, about the time of
the ancient pentecost ; and the great feast for the expiation of
sins, about the time of ripe corn." No account could be given
of these things, without a complicated miracle, unless the In-
dians have descended from the tribes of Israel.

Mr. Boudinot informs, that " when any of their beloved pet-
pie die, they soften the thought of death by saying " he is guar
to sleep with his beloved fathers." The ancient pious Hebrew
dying, " fell asleep, and was gathered to his people."

The Indians, when one dies, wash and anoint the body* Tbe
Hebrews did the same.

Some of the southern Indians hire mourners to bewail and
magnify the merits of the dead. Thus did the Hebrews : Jer.
iz. 17. And the Indians, as had the Hebrews, have their solera
songs on such occasions. A religious procession moves round
the corpse, singing, Yah, (Jah.) Ho, is then sung by tbe pro-
cession. The leader then says He ;— *-all follow. Then Wak
is sung by all. Thus they sing the syllables which compote
Jah, Jehovah. The corpse is- then buried with the face to the
east.

Lewis and Clark, in their tour to the Pacific, inform thai
they found among the natives, in those remote regions, recepta-
cles for the dead, always lying east and w*st ; the door of the
tomb to the east, and the bodies in the tomb lying with the faff
to the east.

The Indians, oAen bury with the corpse a variety of furniture;
and their best things, if the dead be a first character. The He-
brews did the same. Josephus informs that Hyrcanus, a Mac-
cabee, when Jerusalem was besieged by the Syrian tyrant, and
money was wanted, took from king David's sepulchre 3000
talents, which had 1300 years before been buried with him.

Another noted Hebrew custom the Indians have. Doctor
Boudinot informs, that a worthy minister informed him, that*5
he was preaching with some Indians ; between the exercises, ti-
dings were brought to an Indian woman present, that her soo
was suddenly drowned. In deep distress she retired to a lit*
distance, and sat on the ground. Female friends followed, and
*at around hor, AfW Miffon. ;i «oason in solemn silence. flK"

Natutt and Providence.

401

ning mother put her hand upon her mout!:, and then fell
ird with her face in the dust. The rest all followed the
pie. The men went by themselves, and did the same. It
11 known that laying the hand on the mouth, and the mouth
> dust, is distinguished Hebraism. See Micah, vii. 16 ;
, iii. 29 ; Prov. xxx. 32.

ins the reader is presented with a view of the historical and
ous traditions of the native Americans ; and will judge for
flf whether they do not exhibit satisfactory evidence that
natives., are the very tribes of Israel ?
important an argument is furnished cn this subject, from
idian's place of refuge from (he avenger of blood, that a
ular head shall be reserved for it, in a succeeding page,
long what other people on earth can such traditional evU
be found of their being the descendants of the ten tribes ?
elieved uo other nations exhibits such evidence. Whence
the natives of our continent, if they be not the tribes of Is-
and where are those tribes to b£ found ? They are to be
, and come to light, as Israelites ; and this too, about the
it period. This results from the prophetic scriptures, and
jns of the times. The descendants of Abraham are now

0 be recovered. Where shall this branc h of them be found
4ng been providentially preserved, now for 2500 years, if

1 this sequestered land ? The tribes of Israel might have
their way hither, as well as any other people. Some peo-
d find their way hither, and have brought down all these
tisms and traditions, which it seems could not be fur-
l from any other quarter, than from the commonwealth
ael.

The celebrated William Penn* gives accounts of the natives
nnsylvania, which go to corroborate the same point* Mr.
;aw the Indians of Pennsylvania, before they had been af-
with the rude treatment of the white people. And in a
to a friend in England, he thus writes of those natives; " I
them with like countenances with the Hebrew race ; and
children of so lively a resemblance to them, that a man
think himself in Duke's place, or Barry street in London,
le sees them." Here, without the least previous idea of
latives being Israelites, that shrewd man was struck with
perfect resemblance of them ; and with other things
will be noted. He speaks of their dress and trinkets, as
e, life those of ancient Israel ; their ear-rings, nose jewels,
ets on their arms and legs, rings (such as they were) on
ngers, necklaces made 6f polished shells found in their

Quoted bj Or. Roudiaot.

51

\U2 The Wonders of

rivers, and on O.ew coasts ; bands, shells and feathers ornamei^^
ing the heads of females, and various strings of beads adorniu ^
several parts of the hotly.

Mr. Penn adds to his friends, that " he eonsidered this peop
as under a dark night; yet they believed in God and immorta
ty, without the help of metaphysics. For he says, they infon

cd him that there was a great king, who made them — that tWE
souls of the good shall go to liiin." He adds ; " Their worsh^M
consists in two parts, sacrifice and cantieo. (songs.) The fir-" "
is with their first fruits : and the first buck they kill gocstotl 'V
lire." Mr. Penu proceeds to describe their splendid feast «^
first ripe fruits, one of which he had attended. He informs j
u All that go to this feast must take a piece of money, which hs
made of the bone of a fish." — " None shall appear before n?
empty." He speaks of the agreement of their rites with those
of the Hebrews. He adds; <l They reckon by moons, they of-
fer their first ripe fruits; they have a kind of feast of tabenn-
cles ; they are said to lay their altars with twelve stones ; thej
mourn a year ; they have their separations of women ; with
many other things that do not now occur." Here is a most
artless testimony, given by that notable man drawn from hii
own observation?, and accounts given by him : while bethought
of the people's belug actually Hebrew, probably was most dis-
tant from his mind.

8. Their hating a tribe, answering In various respects to tti
tribe of Levi, sheds further light on this subject. The thought
naturally occurs, that if tl.^se are the ten tribes, and they haw
preserved so many of their religious traditions ; should we not
be likely to find among them some tradition of a tribe answering
to the tribe of Levi i If we should find something of this, the
evidence of their being the tribes of Israel would indeed be
more striking. Possibly this is furnished. The Mohawk tribe
were held by the other tribes in great reverence ; and the other
tribes round about them had been accustomed to pay them ao
annual tribute. Mr. Boudinot gives the following account of
them. " Mr. Colden says, he had been told by old men (In-
dians) in New-England, that when their Indians were at war
formerly with the Mohawks, as soon as one (a Mohawk) ap-
peared, the Indians would raise a cry, from hill to hill, a Jlfo-
hawk I a Mohawk ! upon which all would flee as sheep before
u wolf, without attempting to make the least resistance. And
that all the nations around them have for many years, entirelv
submitted to their advice, and paid them a yearly tribute. And
the tributary nations dared not to make war or peace, without
the consent of the Mohawks." Mr. Colden goes on to state an
instance of their speech te the governor of Virginia, in which i'

i jYaturx and Providence. 40^

stm~-s the Mohawks were the correctors of the misdoings of
ther tribes.

o w, could any tiling be found in their name, which might
s stii allusion to the superiority of the tribe of Levi x we
ilcl think the evidence very considerable, that here are
«cl the descendants of the part of that tribe which clave to
**ouse of Israel. And here too evidence seems not wholly
tiling. The Hebrew word Mhhokkek, signifies an interpreter
Mhe law, superior. We have, then, a new view of the possi-
b origin of the Mohawks !

9* Several prophetic traits of character given by the Hebrews,
h Accurately apply to the aborigines of America. Intemperance
MQHbe first noted. Isaiah, writing about the time of the ex-
pansion of Israel from Canaan, and about to predict their re-
Itofation, says, Isai. xxviii. 1 — " Wo to the crown of pride, the
drunkards of Ephraim ; — (Ephraim was a noted name of the
fett tribes of Israel.) The crown of pride, the drunkards of
Ephraim, shall be trodden under feet. For all tables shall be
full of vomit and filthiness ; so that there is no place clean."

In the course of the description of their drunkenness, that of
heir rejection and restoration is blended ; that the Lord by a
nighty one would cast them down to the earth ; and their glori-
ous beauty should be like that of a rich flower in a fertile valley,
rhicb droops, withers and dies. But in time God would revive
t. * " In that day shall the Lord of hosts be for a crown of glo-
jr, and for a diadem of beauty unto the residue of this people."
Tone who know the character of ' the Indians in relation to in—
rthperance, need to be informed that this picture does most
ingularly apply to ihem.

Doctor Williams in his history of Vermont, on this trait of In-
itio character, says ; " No sooner had the Indians tasted of the
pirituous liquors brought by the Europeans, than they contrac-
»d a new appetite, which they were wholly uuable to govern.
7he old and the young, the sachem, the warrior and the wo-
len, whenever they can obtain liquors, indulge themselves with-
ut moderation and without decency, till universal drunkenness
ikes place. All the tribes appear to be under the dominion of
his appetite, and unable to govern it/'

X writer in the Connecticut Magazine assures us of the In-
ians in Massachusetts, when our fathers first arrived there ;
; As soon as they had a taste of ardent spirits, they discovered
. strong appetite for them ; and their thirst soon became insa-
iable."

Another trait of Hebrew character which singularly applies
t> the Indians, is found in Isai. iii. " The bravery of their tink-
ng ornaments, about their feet ; their cauls, and round tires

404

The Wonders of

like the moon ; their chains, bracelets, mufflers, bonnets, (
ments of the legs ; head bands, tablets, ear-rings, rings,
nose-jewels ; the mantles, the wimples ; and the crisping \
One would imagine the prophet was here indeed describifi
natives of America in iheir full dress ! No other people on
probably bear a resemblance to such a decree.

This description was given just before ihe expulsion of
el. And nothing would be more likely than that their ta
these flashy ornaments should descend to posterity. Foi
make the earliest and deepest impressions on the rising g
tion.

10. The Indians being in tribes, with their lieads and
of tribes, affords further light upon this subject. The H
not only had their tribes, and heads of tribes, as have I
dians : but they had their animal emblems of their tribes,
emblem was a serpent ; Issachar's an ass% Benjamin's a
and Judah's a lion. And this trait of character ;s not w
among the natives of this land. They have their wolf
their tiger tribe ; panther tribe; buffalo tribe ; bear tribe
tribe ; raccoon tribe ; eagle tribe, and many others,
other nation on earth bears any resemblance to this ? H
doubt, is Hebrew tradition.

Various of the emblems given in Jacob's last blessing
been strikingly fulfilled in the American Indians. " Da
be a serpent by the way ; an adder in the path, that bit*
horse-heels, so that the rider shall fall backwards. Be
shall ravin as a wolf; in the morning he shall devour the
and at night he shall divide the spoil." Had the nrophe
rested on the American Aborigines, it seems as though t
ture could have beeu more accurate.

11. Their hoving an imitation of the ancient city of
evinces the truth of our subject. Their city of refuge lis
hinted from Mr. Adair. But as this is so convincing an
ment, (no nation on earth having any ♦liing of the kind, I
ancient Hebrews and the Indians,) the reader shall he moi
ticularly instructed on this article. Of one of these p!;
refuge, Mr. Boudinot says : " the town of refuge called
is on a large stream of the Mississippi, five miles above
Fort Loudon formerly stood. Here, some years a^o, a
Englishman was protected, after killing an Indian war
defence of his properly. He told Mr." Adair, that after
months stay in this place of refuge, he intended to returr
house in the neighbourhood ; but the chiefs told him it
prove fatal to him. So that he was obliged to continue
till he pacified the friends of the decensed, by presents ti
satisfaction. In the upper country of Muskagee, (sai

.Yatuw and Providence.

400

loudinot) was an old beloved (own, called Koosah — which is a
tlaoc of safety for those who kill undesignedly.

** In almost every Indian nation (he adds) there are several
leaceable towns, which are called old beloved, holy or white
mu. It is not within the memory of the oldest people, that
blood was ever shed in them ; although they often force per-
ions from them, and put them elsewhere to death." Who can
Wad this, and not be satisfied of the origin of this Indian tra-
dition ?

< The well known trait of Indian character, that they will pur-
sue one who has killed any of their friends, ever so far, and
*vejr so long, as an avenger of the bloodshed, thus lies clearly
>pen to view. It originated in the permission given to an
ivenger of blood in the commonwealth of Israel ; and is found
d such a degree, probabJy, in no other nation.

1 2. Other Indian rites, and various other considerations, go to
v*nce the fact, that tliis people are the ten tribes of Israel. Fur-
te** details are given, and might be enlarged upon ; as reli-
loUs separations of Indian females, almost exactly answering
1 tlie law in ancient Israel ; their beginning the year as did Is-
9 With the new moon after the vernal equinox ; their special
te*ition paid to new moons, as was paid in Israel ; their green
>r** noon, the most lovely of all, even as Israel had their be-
month Abib, which signifies an ear of green corn ; their
'"ilee declared to have been observed by some of the natives :
^K^lvenda and Acasta both affirm, that the natives keep a Ju-
according to the usage in Israel." The testimony of Ed-
l**ds, in his *' West Indies," that the striking uniformity of the
u dices and customs of the Caribbee Indians, to the practi-
^ of the Jews, has not escaped the notice of historians, — as
^^nella, Du Tertre and others and the various predictions
f ^Tie final restoration of Israel, bringing them from the ends of
earth, from the west, and (as one translates it) " from the
gc^Viig down of the sun." These things open fruitful sources of
v& *dence.

But I have more than equalled my designed limits. It is
agaiu asked, is it possible to find another people on earth exhi-
biting an equal degree of evidence of their being the ten tribes
of Israel ? Can another people on earth be found exhibiting one
sixth part of the evidence adduced in favour of the American
natives ? We expect no new revelation, nor miracles wrought,
to inform who are the ten tribes of Israel. Here is just such
evideuce as we should rationally look for ; but six times as
much of it, as we should dare to have expected, after a lapse of
2,500 years, with a people without letters. Our aborigines
are essentially distinguished from all other pagans on earth, in

The ll'»i:i-r.<

the uniform hdu *f of most of them of one God : and their In

dom fr-.Mii false gods : as well as in many other striking things?*:
which appear in tht ir hi>tor\ .

How prone have been mankind, in all ages, to idolatry.— —
Hundreds of thousands of fal*c good*, of every foolish descrBK- ip-
tion, have existed in the bewildered imaginations of men de^ "^ti-
tute of levclatiou. But the knowledge of the true God wasi^Kre-
nounced. " Asihcy did not like to retain (Jod in their kuo^^ w-
ledge, God pave them «Pi"u> almost every description of idf. al-
atry. How early did the world (in several centuries after tk> — he

flood) go ofl' to tirois idolatry, even under the instructions rf

the patriarchs, and so soon alter the terrible admonitions ofu^Me
flood! The natives of one of the greatest islands of the easte — w
ocean are so depraved, that it lias not hi en known that they h^sd
the least idea of any Suprene Being. How prone were tK~ie
Jews and Israel, in ancient times, even under all their rich a-^J-
vantages, to unite in the idolatrie? of their heathen neighbour-

But the 70 years captivity of the Jews in Babylon, cur&-d
them utterly of idolatry, from that day to this. While they hav" e
been dispersed, and been inlideb relative to Jesus Christ ; the*- J
have been firm believers in th.» Old Testament, and in the oi3t e
God of Abraham. It is analogous with this to expect, that tl e
ten tribes (wherever they are) would be cmed, as well as tt 2 e
Jews, of their gross idolatry, and would be kept during the Mt
long outcast state, in a situation somewhat resembling that
the Jews, in their speculation concerning God. Such has be^" n
the case with the natives of this continent, at least to as great a
degree as could be without a bible or letters ; and such hf=9-&
been the case with no other pco; «u: earth I Nothing but tL*- e
very special power and mercy ol'Gud, could have kept the£=^ e
natives in this traditional hab«? of acknowledging the one onF — J
living and true God, as they l a\e don-/. While they have bee- *
dead to the life of religion, as a vail:;/ dry fwaa ; yet the
have strancely been kept fiom acki.ow !• d'jir.ir "uy other Go- ^
but Jehovah, the Great Spirit, who hn-iV .!•# n, r::-d all tilings.

And light, in t! esc l ist d'i\s < ?' v. <>(.... - ^.vhc n :hc ilnn hV *
the restoration of Israel and Ji J.; J«- s'urj: v.m:-\ ba.: 1
breaking out and accumii!:.<!i 1 on -i1 \u . \hiost ib» ~
origin of the American n: t'v-. - :.-..( : \*\ tin "St. >

ill the West.'- that /\ ilt • ..r/? En;Jlsk ~

Jcw#9 '(ml ('hrivtiiw.in w n t.j h , i,. ;--. ,: • ' , ///,'/. ■ j-ri *r, mu^-
sea-faring nv\. ; all law. ;,/:/.''// 1.; ihr ;«.■■•,/$ f : v:1'a^
to indicate, that tLsr Indian* cn> tr< d, srn;dn]t!s 0/ hrad -*
Mr. M'Ken/ie has travelled from th»? Atlantic very far to die?
north-west ; and some of his statements of facts go to the >a»'< *
point. Various of the European visitants to this confin!'"!-

Nature and Frovidence.

4§7

after it was known to the civilized world, expressed their
ize on finding among the natives things which bore such a
lblance to the history of ancient Israel. What account can
veil of all this, but that here are the very ten tribes. —
e tribes mu»t be somewhere on earth. Where are they ?

can they be known ? Whence came our native Ameri-
? What other account can be given of their traditions,

language, Hebrew words and phrases, (the radical lan-
e of their tribes) and the broken fragments of the ancient
3my of Israel running through so many of them ? It would
r wilder and more difficult to account for these things on
other principle, than to say we have evidence that is satis-*
ry, of having found at lafct, the very valley of the dry bones
le house of Israel ! The facts stated of them, must on
f other principle, appear most unaccountable, not to say
culous.

F art her Remarks on the foregoing Subject.

any are still disposed to doubt the doctrine advanced iu
preceding remarks, on account of the dark complexion
le savages, will do well to recollect, that a majority of man-
are dark iu complexion. The Asiatic nations are inva-
y such. Abraham, the head, and prince of the Jewish na-
was an Assyrian. The Jews in that country are of the
j colour — in France and Turkey they are brown — in Spain
Portugal swarthy. They are tawny in Egypt and Arabia
Abyssinia they are as dark as the native Indians Buchan-
in his researches in Asia, tells us, in that country he found
ral thousands of Jews whom he calls black Jews. Another
ction is, their having no beard on their faces, as have the
;. Of this it is said of the Indians, that they have a meth-
f removing it, either by plucking it, or in some other way.
his as it may, it is proved by Mr. John R. Jewett, who was
n prisoner by the Indians, at Nootka Sound in 1803, and
lined among them three years. He had been a blacksmith
rmourer on board the ship Boston, but at Nootka Sound,
;elf and a Mr. Thompson, were the outy persons who sur-
d the slaughter of the whole crew by king Maquinna's
ges. The ship was bound to China, and had come to an-
at Nootka Buy for wood, but being deceived by the arti-
of Maquinna, fell a sacrifice to savage revenge, for some
•ies received, from some other adventurers, on the north-
coast of America, sometime before. Air. Jewett while

The li'nhJcte i*f

umomrthcm sax.*, many tribes xisited .Nootka, ami anioni: oth-
ers, there rami- a tribe far from ihc north, who had very lont,
anil heaxy beards, who wore more saxa»*e and inoro»> than
any he hail r-ver seen. Tln'-e facts it is hi lieved, are sufficient
to remove all doubt- aris'mir from the circumstance of the na-
mes bcinir swarthx, and prepares the mind to recognize the
wandering tribes of the Western, Nortlicrn and Southern re-
gions as lineallx desended from ihe royal house of Abraham,
Isaac. :vrA Nrae].

PHENOMENON OF THE jEKOLITHS.

The ft Mowing is n n am, 1/ nt of tin astonishing phenomenon of tit
.'Urolith or uir slums.

[\\y Adam Clarke, LL. I). F. A. S.]

Thr JW<7 dut down gr.-ut .».'•<//;.; -from heaven npoa them.—
Some have contended that stone*, in the common acceptation
of the word, are intended here : and that the term hail slonmx*
only used to point out \he celerity of their fall, and their quantity,
That <tones have fallen from the elands, if not from a greater
heiirht, is a most incontestable fact. That these have fallen in
different parts nf the world is also true — the East Indies, Amer-
ica, France, Germany, Endaud, &c, have all witnessed thi*
phenomenon: of such stones ] have seen several fragments;
some considerable pieces may be seen in the British Museum.
That Goil miirht have cast down such stones as these, on the
Canianites, there can be no doubt, b'causc his power is unlim-
iter! ; and the whole account proves that here there was a mi*
raculous interference. Hut it is more likely that hail stones, in
ih»- proper sen.se of the word, are meant, as well as erpressed, in
the text. That God on other occasions has made use of hail
atones, to destroy both men and cattle, we have ample proof in
the- ;//#«•/.'* nf hail that fell on the Egyptians. — See the note on
Exod. ix. Jtf. There is now before me a square of glass, taken
out of a south window in the hou-e of Mr. Hall of Crockcrton, in
i lie parish of Lon'/bridcrv 1) verell, county of Wilts, through
which a hail .-tone pa^rd in a shower that fell there June 1.
ITsn. nr two oVlock I*. M. The hole is an oh'u*r ellipsis, or
nvcL and i> cut as true as if it had been done with a diamond •
jt is three inrhfs and a half in diameter; a proof that the stow
rh.ix pie«- «•«! ft (which wa. abouf el- \en iuchc? in circumference
"i»n- v ••i»N»>..-.-f% ■ t-'f.c #'!.•• ti-j,- trhi-.- n?M<f b-ivf •

Nature and Providence*

409

ed to pieces. I have known a cannon ball to go through a
e of glass in the cabin window of u ship, and make precisely
lme kind of hole, without either shattering or even starring
lass. It is needless to add that this hail shower did great
ge, breaking even trees in pieces, and destroying the vegc-
i through the whole of its extent. Hut allowing that ex-
dina/y showers of hail have fallen in England or France,
likely that such shower* ever fall in the promised laud ?
' certainly have, .llbr.rtus dquensis, one of the writers in
ollectiou, Gesta Dei per Francos, in describing the e.xpedi-
}f Baldwin I. iu the Holy Laud, obser* es, that when be
lis army were iu the Arabian mountains, in the vicinity of
)ead Sea. they suffered incredibly from horrible hail, terri-
ost, and indescribable. ra/Vand snow ; so that thirty of his
serished by them. His wor Is are, 44 Sexta vera die montanis
msis, in extrcmo illontm cacumine. maxima pcrtulerunt peri-
in Giundink horrihili, in Glacie terribili, in pluvia & nive
dita, quorum immauitate, et horrore ingrucnte ad triginta
usptditcs, prafrigore mortua sunt." — Hist. Hieros. p. 307.
icludc, therefore, that a shower of hail stones may be
t ; and that this shower, though natural in itself was super-
ally employed on this occasion, and miraculously directed
1 where it did, and do the execution described,
it, I am ready to grant notwithstanding, that as a most stu-
nts miracle was iu this instance wrought, in causing the suu
noon so stand still ; there can be no doubt that the shower
Mies, which was also miraculous, might have been of real
as well as hail-stuncs. Of late, this subject of the fall
al stones from the cloudy., has been very closely investiga-
ind not only the possibility of the fall of such stones from
louds, or from much higher regions, but the certainty of the
has been fully demonstrated. The substances are now, in
sophical language, denominated iEroliths, or air stones ;
le following table, constructed by M. I/.arn, a foreign chem-
thibits a variety of facts of this kind, shews the places and
in which these substances fell ; and the testimony by which
facts are supported. As it is as possible that God might
projected a shower of stones on these idolutors, even from
ioou, as to arrest that planet in her course, I give the table,
eave the reader to decide, in the present case, for ^Ero-
or hail stones, as may seem to him most congruous to the
lere related.

iese stones generally appear luminous in their descent, nio-
in oblique directions, with \erv great velocities, and com-
y with a hissing noise. They are frequently heard to ex-
», or burst, and sn»ni to fly in pieces, the larger parts falline

The Wonders of

i — — —

o
s

1

S .s ft 2 Z.2

§ 1 ; £ - 1 1 Js «J ' £ Is §

3 1 •

e l| -g ' ' ' ' ' ' '

PLACES WHERE THEY FELL.

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• • Si •§ • - ■ 'S eo • c:= • 0='

se |=6! |f£ |'s . !S

SUBSTANCES.

bo

.s . ■ • • *

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0 • • • 1 ■ • -s «■ • • •

• w ^ c ^ «

S . M W ° t£S -=!

1 1 1 li0 g8- 8rt • -i!.:oi£ §

0 6 « ?t ^" S ? w t - 0 >ci^ccc 0 - -a:
b *. ~-£*S A 0 tix ►•^ 2T ^ ^ ^ u :

Nature and Providence.

411

They often strike the earth with such force, as to sink
al inches below the surface. They are always different
the surrounding bodies, but in every case are similar to one
ler, being seinimetalic, coated with a thin black encrttsta-

Tbey bear strong marks of recent fusion. Chemists
found, od examining these stones, that they very nearly
; in their nature and composition, and in the proportion of
component parts.

leir specific gravities arc generally about three or four times
)f water, being hq^ertfhan common stones. From the
* account, it jflfUI^Wfe *6 conclude, that they have all
;ame origin, ^ro^ account foPtbis phenomenon, various
theses have appeared : we shall mention three : 1. That they
ittle planets, which circulating in space, fall jjjito the at-
here, which by its friction diminishes the velocity ^Ntthftt
fall by their weight. 2. That they are concretions fcrnfld t
e atmosphere. 3. Tfiat they are projected from luaar J
nos. These are the most probable conjectures we can
with, and of these the two former possess a very small
ie of probability, but there are very strong reasons in fa-
of the last. Amoi;^ the reasons, we may notice the fol-
g: l.Volcanosin the in i>on have been observed by means
i telescope. 2. The lunar volcano? are very high, and
jrface of that globe suffers frequent changes, as appears
e late observations of Schroeter. 3. If a body be pro-
I from he moon to a distance greater than that of the

of equilibrium, between the attraction of the earth and
, it will on the known principle of gravitation, fall to the
4. That a body may be projected from the lunar volca-
eyond the moon's influence, is not only possible, but very
ible ; for on calculation it is found, that four times the
usually given to a twelve pounder, will be quite sufficient
is purpose : it is to be observed, that the point of equili-
i is much near the moon ; and that a projectile from the

will not be so much retarded, as one from the earth, both
count of the moon's rarer atmosphere and its less attract-
rce. On this subject, see Mr. Haward's valuable paper

Philosophical Transactions for 1 802, and Dr. Hutton's
nation in the new abridgment, part xxi. It is highly
ble, that the ancile, or sacred shield, that fell from heaven
> reign of Nuina Poinpilius, was a stone of this sort,
description of its fall, as given by Ovid, Fast, lib in.

a striking resemblance to recent accounts of stones fall-
om the atmosphere, particularly in the luminous appear-
md hissing noise with which it was accompanied.

412

The W onders <>t

Dum loquitur totum jam sol cmoverat orbem,

Et gravis cethereo venit ab axe lragor.
Tcr tonuit sine nube, tria fulgura misii :

Credite dicenti ; mira, sed acta logyor.
Et media ccelum regione defyiser&cmpU:

Summirere oculos cum duct turba suos.
Ecce levi scutum versatum hniter aura.

Decidid, a populo clamor ad antra venit.
Tollit humo munvs- — -

It is very pessiblt tlat the Palladium of Troy, and the
" of lie Epfiuian Diana, mere stones which really fell
be afinc

noiphere ; bearing some rude resemblance to the
^fiffaai fona.— See the Impkiual Encyclopaedia, article JEro-

...

^ ^ believe it is generally agreed among philosophers. 1. That
all the renal stones, chemically analysed, shew the same pro-
perties : 2. That no stane found on our earth, possesses exacdy
the same properties, nor in the same proportions. This is an
extraordinary circumstance, and deserves particular notice.

Narrative of the descent from the regions above of some of thou
air stones spoken of in Mr. Clarke's table of such occurrences :
by Mr. Howard, F. R. S. which ivas read before the Royal
Society, Feb. 25, 1 802. This gentleman does not incline to
give his opinion of their origin so jrctly as the subject seems to
warrant, But that great philosopher and christian, Jldau
Clarke, does not hesitate to say that their most probable origin
is in the volcanos of the moon. How can their origin be rea-
sonably located to any other place ? To the eye of reason it
does not appear that sttch heavy bodies can be formed in the re-
gions of the air ( as some hare suggested ) for the known laws of
gravitation oppose to this hypothesis a barrier whick cannot bf
removed.

Mr. Haward observes, that — " The concordance of a vari-
ety of facts seems to render it mc*t indisputable, that certain
stony and metalline substances have, at different periods, fallen
on the earth. The account! of these peculiar substances, in the
early annals, even of the Royal Society, have unfortunately been
blended with relations which we now consider as fabulous. In
very early ages, it was believed that stones did in reality fall

•Yature and Frovidtnct .

§

41o

trofa heaven, or from the gods. In modern days, because ex-
plosion and report have generally accompanied the descent of
such substances, the name of thunderbolt, or thunderstone, has
attached itself to them : and, because a variety of substances

ings and trees struck with light-
^ftltim(Jt'r}>olts, tlio thunderbolt ami
a- hern nniiu-d in die same
clas*. But the exiateB^M^^ecitliTu substances In Men on the
nh, I caimoi liquate |<> assert ; and, nn the cmirordauce of

attached itself to them : and,

nt. :■! idcofyilh present, n« **i E » r ^ i h
Li 1 1 ;i ii1 • bectl •'©Hec ted ' - 1

tfaei9INR;n:M .......

lottr and auttic
The authq,
tfe been

tfidl

I tif Bristol?

gtojj shall res! tti£ assertion."
■ <• ■ • die vat inns arcounts uhirh
m tlrm liine^ of stones ibat
sky, [)mf[i|fr.* thefoHowtofir lett^f from thf!
lajuilton, fliiM :\*tni Sieuj^jLcitl
cany,) July 12, 1 794 ; acquainting Inn i
i the midst of a most violent ii ; > |
stones of various weights and dimensions,
ferent persons, men, women, and children. The
a quality not found in any part of the Siennese territoi
fell about eighteen hours after the enormous eruption tiNbmmi
Vesuvius; which circumstance leaves a choice of ditficuJtSM^
the solution of this extraordinary phenomenon. Either these
Stones have been generated in this igneous mass of clouds, which
produced such unusual thunder ; cr, which is equally incredible,
they were thrown from Vesuvius, at a distance of at least 250
miles ; judge then of its parabola. The philosophers here in-
cline to the first solution. I wish much, Sir, to know your senti-
ments. My first objection was to the fact itself; but of this
there are so many eye-witnesses, it seems impossible to withstand
their evidence."

" Sir William Hamilton, it seems, also received a piece of one
of the largest stones, which weighed upwards of five pounds ;
and had seen another, which weighed about one. He likewise-
observed, that the out side of every stone which had been found,
and had been ascertained to have fallen from the clouds near
Sienna, was evidently freshly vitrified, and was black, having
every sign of having passed through an extreme heat ; the in-
side was of a light gray colour, mixed with black spots, and
some shining particles, which the learned there had decided to
be pyrites.

"In 1796, a stone weighing 56lbs. was exhibited in London,
with several attestations of persons who, on the 13th of Decem-
ber, 1795, saw it fall, near W61d Cottage, in Yorkshire, at
about three o'clock in the afternoon. It had penetrated through
12 inches of soil, and 6 inches of solid chalk rock ; and in
burying itself, had thrown up an immense quantity of earth, to

The Wonders of

a great distance : As it fell, a number of explosions were heard,
about as loud as pistols. In the adjacent villages, the sounds

heard M ere taken for guns at sea ; but, at two adjoining villages,
were so distinct of something singular passhnj^^^^^Mhe air,
towards the habitation of Mr. T.yh. I I $11 people

came up, to see if any thing <^n< i 1 i • ■ .:*pd ?n i

hoiiM-- or t:rounii>. V\ hui> tli*? Ml i I, it w;ia n-arm,

smoked, and sine ft ve£M sir «>ugly of -iiljtliur, Its course, as far
as could be collected from rfiiK-n m accounts, u ^ from the
south west. The day w;i? mild . a sort of weather

very frequent -tti tin- Wold Hill no winds or

storms 1 out then- u , H ;,«,- iltunuVi >r Tipin 1 1 01 4 t lie whole
day. Novell kn ^jfcV^ Tldre was no

eruption in ihr «-.mh : |V, ; j i. n it could not come

fatal iitv hoilil'i [til, . ,1* ihfL m:k [HiMrni|se>hHfU>j h iiid

1 ■ 1 1 it rould have been forced from a ny rocks,

01 . vrnTnarr those of Hamborough Head, at a dfa-

Ke miles.* The nearest volcano, I believe to be
II. ,1. In-hud/"

^^^^99, an account of Stones fallen in the East-Indies, was
l nr to the President of the Royal Sooiety, by John Llo)d
^Williams, Esq* which, by its unquestionable authenticity, and
by the striking resemblance it bears to other accounts of fallen
stones, must remove all prejudice. Mr. Williams has since
drawn up the following more detailed narrative of facts.

Account of the explosion of a meteor, near Benares, in the East-
Indies : And of the falling of some stones at the same time,
about fourteen miles from the city. Bv John Lloyd Williams,
Esq. F. R. S.

1 " A circumstance of so extraordinary a nature as the fall of
stones from the heavens, could not fail to excite the wonder,
and attract the attention of every inquisitive mind.

" Among a superstitious people, any preternatural appearance
is viewed with silent awe and reverence ; attributing the causes
to the will of the Supreme Being, they do r.ot presume to judge
of the means by which they were produced, nor the purposes
for which they were ordered ; and we are naturally led to sus-
pect the influence of prejudice and superstition, in their descrip-
tions of such phenomena; my inquiries were therefore chiefly
directed to the Europeans, who were but thinly dispersed about
that part of the country.

"The information I obtained was, that on the 1 9th of De-

* Extruded from the printed paper delivered lit the pSw-c of exhibition.

Nature and Providence.

cember, 1798, about eight o'clock in the evening a very lumi-
nous meteor was observed in the heavens, by the inhabitants of
Benares, and the parts adjacent, in the form of a large ball of
Are ; that it was accompanied by a loud noise, resembling thun-
der; and that a number of stones were said to have fallen from
it, new Krakbiit, a village on the north side of the river Goom-
ty, about 14 miles from the city of Benares.

" The meteor appeared in the western part of the hemisphere,
and was but a short time visible : It was observed by several
Europeans, as well as natives, in different parts of the country-

44 In the neighbourhood of Juaapoor, about 12 miles from the
spot where the stfcart art ->ul to have fallen, it was very dis-
tinctly observed by several European gentlemen and ladies ;
who described it as a ball of fire accompanied with a toud rum-
bling noise, not unlike an ill-discharged platoon of musketry.
It was also seen, and the noise heard, by various persons at
Benares. Mr. Davis observed the light come into the room
where he was, through a glass window, so strongly as to pro-
ject shadows from the bars between the panes, on a dark colour-
ed carpet, very distinctly ; and it appeared to him as luminous
as the brightest moonlight.

"When an account of the fall of the stones reached Benares,
Mr. Davis, the judge and magistrate of the district, sent an in-
telligent person to make enquiry on the spot. When the person
arrived at the village near which the stones were said to have
fallen, the natives, in answer to his enquiries, told him, that
they had either broken to pieces, or given away to the Tesseldar,
(native collector) and others, all that they had picked up ; but
that he might easily find some in the adjacent fields, where they
would be readily discovered, (the crops being then not above
two or three inches above the ground,) by observing where the
earth appeared recently turned up. Following these directions,
he found four, which he brought to Mr. Davis ; most of these,
the force of the fall had buried, according to a measure he pro-
duced, about six inches deep, in fields which seemed to have
been recently watered ; and it appeared, from the man's descrip-
tion, that they must have lain at the distance of about a hundred
yards from each other.

" What he further learnt from the inhabitants of the village,
concerning the phenomenon, was that about eight o'clock in
the evening, when retired to their habitations, they observed a
very bright light proceeding as from the sky, accompanied with
a loud clap of thunder, which was immediately followed by the
noise of heavy bodies falling in the vicinity. Uncertain whether
some of their deities mi^rlit not have been concerned in this oc-
currence, they did not venture out to enquire into it until the

4It>

The Wonders of

next morning; when the first circumstance which attracted their
attention, was, the appearance of the earth being turned up in
different parts of their fields, as before mentioned, where, on
examining, they found the stones. '

" The assistant to the collector of the district, Mr. Erekine, a
very intelligent young gentleman, on seeing one of the stones,
brought to him by the native superintend ant of the collections,
was also induced to send a person to that part of the country,
to make enquiry ; who returned with several of the stones, and
brought an account similar to that given by the person sent by
Mr. Davis, together with a confitonky&u itdfrom the Cauzy,
(who had been directed to ntik^llie'&qwrjOT tinder his hand
and seal. .. V: " '

" Mr. Maclane, a gentleman who resided very near the village
of Krlknutfgave ige part of a stone that had been brought to
fchtft, fie rooming after the appearance of the phenomenon, by
Ythw rtftchmau who was on duty at his house; this, he said, bad
TUlen 'through the top of his hut, which was close by, and ba-
ried itself several inches in the floor, which was of consolidated
earth. The stone must, by his account, previous to its baring
been broken, have weighed upwards of two pounds.

" At the time the meteor appeared, the sky was perfectly se-
rene; not the smallest vestige of a cloud had been seen since the
1 1th of the month, nor were any observed for many days after.

" Of these stones, 1 have seen eight, nearly perfect besides
parts of several others, which had been broken by the possessors,
to distribute among their friends. The form of the more perfect
ones, appeared to be that of an irregular cube, rounded off at
the edges : but the angles were to be observed on most of them.
They were of various sizes, from about three to upwards of foil r
inches in their largest diameter; one of them, measuring fou*"
inches and a quarter, weighed two pounds twelve ounces. If*
appearance, they were exactly similar : Externally, they wer^
covered with a hard black coat or incrustation, which, in som^^
parts had the appearance of varnish, or bitumen ; and, on mos
of them were fractures, which, from their being covered with i*
matter similar to that of the coat, seemed to have been made it"*
the fall, by the stones striking against each other, and to have
passed through some medium, probably an intense heat, previous
to their reaching the earth, internally, they consisted of a num-
ber of small spherical bodies, of a slate colour, embedded in m-
whitish gritty substance, interspersed with bright shining spi-
culaj, of a metallic or pyritical nature. The spherical bodies
were much harder than ihe rest of the stone : The white gritty
part readily crumbled, on being rubbed with a hard body ; and, #
on being broken, a quanriu of it attached itself to the inagrier.

Natune and ProviSente.

417

but more particularly the outside coat or crust, wliich appeared
almost wholly attracted by it.

" As two of the more perfect stones which I had obtained, as
well as parts of some others, have been examined by several
gentlemen well versed in mineralogy and chemistry, I shall not
attempt any further description of their constituent parts ; nor
shall I offer any conjecture respecting the formation of such sin-
gular productions, or even record those which I have heard of
others, but leave the world to draw their own inferences from the
facts above related. I shall only observe, that it is well known
there are no volcanos on the continent of India ; and, as far as
* I can learn, no stones have been met with, in that part of the
world, which bear the smallest resemblance to those above de-
scribed."

The president having favoured Mr. Haward with specimens of
the Yorkshire and Italian stones, and Mr. Williams with speci-
mens of that from Benares ; he likewise obtained a specimen Of
a stonefrom Bohemia, and being thus possessed of four substances,
to all of which the same origin had been attributed, the necessity
of describing them mineralogically, did not fail to present itself.
This was executed by the count de Bournon, who presented
Mr* Haward with an accurate and scientific description of them.
As we have not room to insert the whole of this description, we
shall only observe, that there is a singular coincidence not
. merely in the general history of the stones, but also in their gene-
ral external characters; since, whatever may be their size,
they are covered over the whole extent of their surface with a
thin crust of a deep black colour : They have not the slightest
. gloss ; and their surface is sprinkled over with small asperites.
When broken, they are of a greyish ash colour, and evidently
appear to be composed of four different substances, viz.

1 - Small globular or elliptical bodies, from the size of a small
pin's head to that of a pea, aud sometimes even larger. 2. Mar*
11 *1 pyrites, of an indeterminate form, and of a reddish yellow
colour. 3. Small particles of iron, in a perfectly metallic and
^^Ileable state. 4. A grayish white earthy substance, which
sefVes as a kind of cement to the others.

Mr. Haward adds, " They all exhibit a striking conformity
°f character common to each of these stones : and I doubt not
**ut the similarity of component part*, especially of the malleable
together with the near approach of the constituent pro-
Portions of the earths contained in each of the four stones, the
^mediate subject of this paper, will establish very strong cvi-
^nce in favour of the assertion, that they have fallen on our
globe. They have been founa at places very remote from each
other, and at periods also sufficiently distant. The mineralogists

418 The Wonders t>f

who have examined them, agree that they have no resemblance
to mineral substances, properly so called ; nor have tbey been
described by mineralogical authors. 1 would further, urge the
authenticity of accounts of fallen stones, and the similarity of
circumstances attendant on such phenomena ; but, to the im-
partial it would be superfluous, and, to those who disbelieve
whatever they cannot explain, it would be fruitless. Attempts
to reconcile occurrences of this nature with known principles
in philosophy, it is true, are already abundant ; but (as the
Earl of Bristol has well expressed,) they leave us a choice of
difficulties equally perplexing. It is however remarkable, that
Dr. Chladni, who seems to have indulged in these speculations
with most success, should have connected the descent of falki
stones with meteors; and that, in the narrative of Mr. Williaaf*
the descent of the stones near Benares, should have been. im-
mediately accompanied with a meteor.

"No luminous appearance having been perceived during .the
day on which the stone fell in Yorkshire, it must be admitted,
rather militates against the idea, that these stones are the sab-
stances which produce or convey the light of a meteor, or that
a meteor must necessarily accompany them. Yet the stones
from Sienna fell amidst what was imagined lightning, but what
might in reality have been a meteor. Stones were- also found,
after the meteor seen in Gascony, in July, 1790.

I ought not perhaps to suppress, that in endeavouring to form
an artificial black coating on the interior surface of one of the
stones from Benares, by sending over it the electrical charge of
about 37 square feet of glass, it was observed to become lu-
minous, in the dark, for nearly a quarter of an hour : and that
the tract of the electrical fluid was rendered black. I by do
means wish to lay any stress upon this circumstance ; for I am
well aware, that many substances become luminous by electri-
city.

" But, should it ever be discovered that fallen stones are actu-
ally the bodies of meteors, it would not appear so problematical,
that such masses as these stones are sometimes represented, do
not penetrate further into the earth : For meteors move in a
horizontal rather than in a perpendicular direction ; and we are
as absolutely unacquainted with the force which impels the me-
teor, as with the origin of the fallen stone.

" Before I close this subject, I may be particularly expected to
notice the meteor which, a few months ago, traversed the country
of Suffolk. It was said, that part of it fell near St. Edmunds-
bury, and even that it set fire to a cottage in that vicinity. It
appeared from enquiries made on the spot, that something seem-
ingly from the meteor, was, with a degree of reason, believed

Nature and Providence. 419

to have fallen in the adjacent meadows ; but the* time of the
combustion of the house did not correspond with the moment of
the meteor's transition. A phenomenon much more worthy of
attention/lias since been described in the Philosophical Magazine.
On the night of the 5th of April, 1800, a body wholly lumi-
nous was seen, in America, to move with prodigious velocity.
Its apparent size was that of a large house, 70 feet long ; and
its -elevation above the surface of the earth; about 200 yards.
The light produced effects little short of sun beams ; and a con-
siderable degree of heat was felt by those who saw it, but no
electric sensation. Immediately after it disappeared in the north-
west, a violent rushing noise was heard, as if the phenomenon
Were bearing down the forest before it ; and, in a few seconds
after, there was a tremendous crash, causing a very sensible
earthquake. Search bejiig afterwards made in the place where
the burning body fell, every vegetable was found burnt, or greatly
scorched, and a considerable portion of the surface of the earth
broken up. We have to lament, that the authors of this ac-
count did not search deeper than the surface of the ground. —
Such an immense body, though moving in a horizontal direc-
tion, could not but be hurried to a considerable depth. Should
k have been more than the semblance of a body of a peculiar
nature, the lapse of ages may perhaps effect what has now been
neglected ; and its magnitude and solitary situation become the
astonishment of future philosophers.

" This leads me to speak of the solitary mass of what has
been called native iron, which was discovered in South Ameri-
ca, and has been described by Don Rubin de Celis. Its weight
was about 15 tons. The same author mentions another insula-
ted mass of the same nature."

Mr. Haward concludes, " it will appear, from a collected
view of the preceding pages and authorities, that ajaumber of
stones asserted to have fallen under similar circumstances, have
precisely the same characters. The stones from Benares, the
stone from Yorkshire, that from Sienna, and a fragment of one
from Bohemia, have a relation to each other not to be ques-
tioned.

1st. They have all pyrites of a peculiar character. 2dly.
They have all a coating of black oxide of iron. 3dly. They
all contain an alloy of iron and nickel. And 4tfily. The earths
which serve to them as a sort of connecting medium, correspond
in their nature, and nearly in their proportions.

" Moreover, in the stones from Benares, pyrites and globular
bodies are exceedingly distinct. In the others they are more
or less definite ; and that from Sienna had one of its globules
transparent. Meteors, or lightning attended the descent of the

The Wonders of

stones at Beiiares, and at Sienna. Such coincidence of clrctun*
stances, and the unquestionable authorities I have adduced,
must, I imagiue, remove all doubt as to the descent of these
stony substances ; for, to disbelieve on the mere ground of in-
comprehensibility, would be to dispute most of the works of
nature.

" Respecting the kinds of iron called native, they all contain
nickel. The mass in South America is hollow, has concavities,
and appears to have been in a soft or welding state, because it
has received various impressions. The Siberian iron has glo-
bular concavities, in part filled with a transparent substance,
which, the proportional quantity of oxide of iron excepted, hai
nearly the composition of the globules in the stone from Benares.
The iron from Bohemia adheres to earthy matter studded
with globular bodies. The Senegal iron had been completely
mutilated before it came under my examination."

PHENOMENON OF THE SUN'S STANDING STILL

The following is the opinion of the learned Rev. Doct. Aim
Clarke, LL> 1). F. R. S. upon the marvellous subject of the
Sun's being arrested in his going down beyond the mount af
Gibeon, and remaining in that position about the space of we
whole day.

Then spake Joshua to the Lord. Though Joshua saw that
the enemies of his people were put to flight, yet he well knew
that all which escaped would rallv again ; and that he should
be obliged to meet them once mor£ in the field of battle if per-
mitted now to escape ; finding that the day was drawing towards
a close, he feared that he should not have time sufficient to com-
plete the destruction of the confederate armies : In this moment
being suddenly inspired with Divine confidence, he requested
the Lord to perform the most stupendous miracle that had ever
been wrought, which was no Jess than to arrest the sun in its
course, and prolong the day till the destruction of his enemies
had been completed !

Sun, stand thou still upon Gibeon ; and thou Moon, in the
valley of Jljelon. To account for this miracle, and to ascer-
tain the manner in which it was wrought, has employed the pens
of the ablest divines and astronomers, especially of the two last
centuries. By their learned labours many difficulties have been
removed from the account in general ; but the very different
and contradictory method pursued by several, in their endeav*

Nature and Providence.

431

>urs to explain the whole, and make the relation concord with
he present acknowledged system of the universe, and the phe-
lomena of nature, tend greatly to puzzle the plain unphiloso-
>bical reader. The subject cannot be well explained without a
Uesertaiion ; and a dissertation is not consistent with the na-
;ure of short notes, or a commentary on scripture. It is how-
nrer necessary to attempt an explanation ; and to bring that as
much as possible within -the apprehension of common readers :
m order to this, I must beg leave to introduce a few preliminary
Observations, or what the reader may call propositions, if he
please.

1. I take it for granted that a miracle was wrought as nearly
is circumstances could admit, in a manner in which it is here
recorded. I shall not, therefore, seek for any allegorical or
metaphorical interpretations : the miracle is recorded as a fact ;
and as a fact I take it up.

2. I consider the present accredited system of the universe,
called sometimes, the Pythagorean, Copernican, or Newtonian
system, to be genuine ; and also to be the system of the uni-
verse, laid down in the Mosaic writings — that the Sun is in the
centre of what is called the solar system; and that the earth
sad all the other planets, whether primary or secondary, move
round him in certain periodical times, according to the quanti-
ty of their matter, and distance from him, their centre.

3. I consider the sun to have no revolution round any orbit,
but to revolve round his own axis, and round the common cen-
tre of gravity in the planetary system, which centre of gravity
is included within his own surface, and in all other respects I
consider him to be at rest in the system.

4m I consider the earth, not only as revolving round the sun,
in 365 days, 5 hours, 48 minutes, and 48 seconds, but as re-
volving round its own axis, and making this revolution in 23
hours, 56 minutes, and 4 seconds : that in the course of 24
hours complete, every part of its surface is alternately turned
to the sun ; and that this revolution constitutes our day and
night, as the former does our year : that it is day to all those
parts which have the sun above the horizon ; and night to those
which have the sun below it : and that this diurnal revolution of
the earth, or revolving round its own axis, in a direction from
west to east, occasions what is commonly called the rising and
letting of the sun, which appearance is occasioned, not by any
motion in the snn himself, but by this motion of the earth ; which
may be illustrated by a ball or globe appended to a thread,
and caused to turn round. If this be held opposite to a candle,
it will appear half enlightened and half dark ; but the dark
parts will be seen to come successively into the light, and the en-

The Wonder* of

lightened parts into the shade ; while the candle itself which
gives the light, is fixed, not changing its position.

5. I consider the solar influence to be the cause both of the
annual and diurnal motion of the earth ; and that while that
influence continues to act upon it, according to the law which
God originally impressed on both the earth and the sun, the an-
nua/ and diurnal motions of the earth must continue ; and that
no power, but the unlimited power of God, can altar this influ-
ence, change or suspend the operation of this law ; but that He
is such an infinitely free agent, that He can, when his unerring
wisdom sees good, alter, suspend, or even annihilate all secon-
dary causes and their effects ; for it would be degrading to the
perfections of his nature to suppose, that he had so bound him-
self by the laws which he has given for the preservation and di-
rection of universal nature, that he could not change them, iter
their effects, or suspend their operations, when greater and bel-
ter effects, in a certain time or place, might be produced by such
temporary change or suspension.

<>. 1 consider, that the miracle wrought on this occasion
served greatly to confirm the Israelites, not only in the belief of
the being and perfections of God, but also in the doctrine of
an especial providence, and in the nullity of the wholo sysfea
of idolatry and superstition.

7. That no evil was done by this miraculous interference,
nor any law or property of nature ultimately changed ; on
the contrary, a most important good was produced, which pro-
bably, to this people, could not have been brought about toy
other way ; and that, therefore, the miracle wrought on this
occasion, was highly worthy of the wisdom and power of God.

8. I consider, that the terms in the text employed to describe
this miracle, are not when rightly understood, contrary to the
well established notions of the true system of the universe;
and are not spoken, as some have contended, ad captum vulgi,
to the prejudices of the common people, much less do they fi>
vour the Ptolemic or any other hypothesis, that places the earth
in the centre of the solar system.

Having laid down these preliminaries, some short observa-
tions on the words of the text may be sufficient.

And the sun stood still in the midst of heaven, and hasted not
to go down about a whole day.

It seems necessary here to answer the question,. At what
time of the day did this miracle take place ? The expression
bechatsi hashamayim> in the midst of heaven, seems to intimate,
that the sun was at that time on the meridian of Gibeon, and
consequently had one half of its course to run ; and this sense
of the plate has been strongly contended for, as essential to the

Natuze aiid Providence*

423

miracle, for the greater display of the glory of God : " Be-
cause," say its abettors, " had the miracle been wrought when
the sun was near the going down, it might have been mistaken
for some refraction of the rays of light, occasioned by a pecu-
liarly moist state of the atmosphere, in the horizpn of that place ;
or by some such appearance as^the Aurora Borealis" To me,
there seems no solidity in this reason ; had the sun been arrested
in the meridian, the miracle could scarcely have been noticed,
«nd especially in the hurry and confusion of that time ; and we
may be assured, that among the Canaanites there .were neither
docks nor time-keepers, by which the preternatural length of
guch a day could have been accurately measured : but, on the
contrary, had the sun been about the setting, when both the
pursuers and the pursued must be apprehensive of its speedy dis-
appearance, its continuance for several hours above the horizon,
so near the point when it. might be expected to go down, must
have been very observable and striking. The enemy must see,
feel and deplore it ; as their* hope of escape must, in such cir-
cumstances, be founded on the speedily entering in of the night,
through which alone, they could expect to elude the pursuing
Israelites. And the Israelites themselves must behold, with
astonishment and wonder, that the setting sun hasted not to go
down about a whole day, affording them supernatural time total-
ly to destroy a routed foe, which otherwise might have had
time to rally, confederate, choose a proper station, and attack
in their turn with peculiar advantages, and a probability of
success. It appears, therefore, much more reasonable that
Joshua should require the miracle to be performed when day-
light was about to fail, just as the sun was setting. If we were
to consider the sun as being at the meridian of Gibeon, as some
understand the midst of heaven, it may be well asked, " How
could Joshua know that he should not have time enough to
complete the destruction of his enemies, who were now com-

Ektely .routed ? Already multitudes of them had fallen by the
ail-stones and by the sword ; and if he had yet half a day be-
fore him, it would have been natural enough for him to con-
clude that he had a sufficiency of time for the purpose, his men
having been employed all night in a forced march, and half a
day in close fighting ; and, indeed, had he not been under an
especial inspiration, he could not have requested the miracle at
all, knowing, as he must have done, that his men must be near-
ly exhausted by marching all night and fighting all day. But
it may be asked, What is the meaning of becliaisi hashamayim,
which we translate in the midst of heaven ? If, with Mr. Bate,
we translate chatsah, to part, divide asunder, then it may refer to
the Itorizon, which is the apparent dirision, of the heavens into

4i4 . The Wonders of

the upper and lower hemisphere : and thus the whole verse has
been understood by some eminently learned men, who have
translated the passage thus : And the sun stood still in the (upper)
hemisphere of heaven, and hasted not to go down when the day
was complete ; that is, though the day was then camplete, the
sun being on the horizon, the line that to the eye constituted
the mid heaven ; yet it hasted not to go down, was miraculously
sustained in its then almost-setting position , and this seems still
more evident from the moon appearing at that time, which it is
not reasonable to suppose, would be visible, in the glare of light i
occasioned by a noon-day sun.

But the main business relative to the standing still of the sua,
still remains to be considered.

I have already assumed, as a thoroughly demonstrated truth,
that the sun is in the centre of the system, moving oi)ly round
his own axis, and the common centre of the gravity of the
planetary system, while all the planets revolve round Aim, Prop.
2 and 3: that his influence is the cause of the diurnal and amml
revolutions of the earth ; nor can I see what other purpose his
revolution round his own axis can possibly answer, Prop. 5.

I consider, that the word dom, in the text, refers to the tri&-
holding or restraining this influence, so that the cessation of the
earth's motion might immediately take place. The desire of
Joshua was, that the sun might not sink below the horizon ; bit
as it appeared now to be over Gibeon, and the moon to be over
the valley of Ajalon, he prayed that they might continue io
these positions till the battle should be ended ; or, in other worth,
that the day should be miraculously lengthened out.

Whether Joshua had a correct philosophical notion of the
true system of the universe, is a subject that need not come into
the present enquiry : but whether he spoke with strict propriety
on this occasion, is a matter of importance, because he mo*
be considered as acting under the divine influence, in requesting
the performance of such a stupendous miracle: and we roiT
safely assert, that no man in his right mind would have thongbl
of offering such a petition, had he not felt himself under some
divine afflatus. Leaviug therefore his philosophic knowledge
out of thc*qucstion, he certainly spoke as if he had known that
the solar influence was the cause of the earth's rotation, and
therefore, with the strictest philosophic propriety, he requested,
that, that influence might be for a time restrained, that the diur-
nal motion of the earth might be arrested, through which alone,
the sun could be kept above the horizon, and the day prolonged.
His mode of expression evidently considers the sun as die great
ruler or master in the system : and all the planets, (or at least
the earth.) moving in their respective orbits at his command-

JSature and Providence. 42a

He therefore desires him, (in the name, and by the authority of
bis creator) to suspend his mandate with respect to the earth's
motion, and that of its satellite, the moon. Had he said, earthy
stand thou still — the cessation of whose diurnal motion was the
affect of his command, it could not have obeyed him ; as it is
not even the secondary cause either of its annual motion round
the sun, or its diurnal motion round its own axis. Instead of
'doing so, he speaks to the suii, the cause (under God) of all these
-motions, as his great archetype did; when, in the storm on the
sea of Tiberias, he rebuked the wind first, apd then said to the
waves, Peace ! be still ! be silent ! be dumb ! Mark iv. 39.
and the effect of this command was, a cessation of the agitation
in the sea, because the wind ceased to command it, that is, to ex-
ert its influence upon the waters.

The terms in this command are worthy of particular note :
Joshua does not say to the sun, Stand still, as if he had con-
ceived him to be running his race round the earth ; but be silent,
or inactive, that is, as I understand it, restrain thy influence ; no
longer act upon the earth, to cause it to revolve round its axis ;
a mode of speech which is certainly consistent with the strictest
astronomical knowledge ; and the writer of the account, wheth-
er Jdfrhua himself, or the author of the book of Jasher, in re-
lating the consequences of this command, is equally accurate,
using a word widely different, when he speaks of the effect the
retention of the solar influence had on the moon ; in the first
case, the sun was silent or inactive, dom, in the latter the moon
stood still, dmad. The standing still of the moon, or its con-
tinuance above the horizon, would be the natural effect of the
cessation of the solar influence, which obliged the earth to dis-
continue her diurnal rotation, which of course would arrest the
moon ; and thus boil) it and the sun were kept above the hori-
lon, probably for the space of a whole day. As to the address
to the moon, it is not conceived in the same terms as that to the
snnn and for the most obvious philosophical reasons : all that
is said is simply, and the moon on the vale of Jljalon, which may
be thus understood : " Let the sun restrain his influence, or be
inactive, as he appears now upon Gibeon, that the moon may
continue as she appears now over the vale of Ajalon." It is
worthy of remark that every word in this poetic address, is ap-
parently selected with the greatest caution and precision.

Persons who are no friends to Divine Revelation, say, " that
the account given of this miracle, supposes the earth to be in
the centred the system, and the sun moveable; and as this is
demonstrably a false philosophy, consequently the history was
never dictated by the Spirit of Truth." Others, in answer, say,
that the Holy Spirit condescends to accommodate himself to

426

Tite Winders of

the apprehensions of the vulgar : The Israelites would natoral-
ly have imagined that Joshua was deranged, had he bid the
earth stand still, which they grant, would have been the most
accurate and philosophical made of command on this occasion."
But with due deference both to the objectors and defenders, I
must assert that such a form of speech, on such an occasion,
would have been utterly tni philosophic ; and that the expression!
found in the Hebrew text, are such as Sir l*aac Newton himself
might have denominated, every thing considered, elegant, cor-
n et, and sublime. Nor does it at all appear, that the prejudices
of the vulgar were consulted on this occasion ; nor is there a
word here, when properly understood, that is inconsistent with
the purest axiom of the soundest philosophy ; and certainly no-
thing that implies any contradiction. 1 grant, that when the
people have to do with astronomical and philosophical matters,
then the terms of the science may be accommodated to their ap-
prehensions: it is on this ground that Sir Isaac Newton himself
speaks of the rising and of the setting of the sun ; though all
genuine philosophers know, that these appearances are produc-
ed by the rotation of the earth on its own axis, from west to
east. But when matters of this kind are to be transacted be-
tween God and his prophets, as in the above case, then subjects
relative to philosophy are conceited in their proper terras, and
expressed according to their own nature. At the conclusion of
the 13th verse, a different expression is used when it is said, So
the sun stood still, it is not dam but amad ; raiyadmod ha-shi-
mesh, which expression, thus varying from that in the command
of Joshua, may be considered as implying that in order to
re * ain his influence, which i have assumed to be the cause, it
the earth's motion, the sun h i itself became inactive, that is, ceas-
ed to revolve around his own axis ; which revolution is proba-
bly one cause, not only of the revolution of the earth, but ofaH
the other planetary bodies in our system, and mi*: lit have af-
fected all the planets at the time in question ; but this neither
could nor did, produce any disorder in nature ; and the delay
of a few hours in the whole planetary motions, dwindles away
into an imperceptible point in the thousands of years of their re-
Volutions. I need scarcely add, that the command- of Joshua to
the sun, is to be understood as a prayer to God (from whom the
sun derived his being aiid his continuance) that the effect might
be what is expressed in the command ; and therefore it is said,
ver. 14. that the Lord hearkened unto the voice of a man,
for. the Lord fought for Israel.

I have thus gone through the different parts of this astonishing
miracle, and have endeavoured to account for the whole in as
plain and simple a manner as possible. It is not pretended that

Nature and Providence.

421

ibis account sAouW satisfy every reader ; and Uiat every difficulty
is solved : it would be impossible to do this id such a compass
as that by which I am necessarily circumscribed ; and 1 -have
beeu obliged, for the sake of brevity, to throw into the form of
i propositions or observations, several points which may appear to
demand illustration and proof— for -,ucli, J must refer the reader
t to Astronomical Treatises. Calmet, Scheuchzer, and Saurin,
I vith several of our own countrymen, have spoken largely on
L Ibis difficult subject; but in such away, as I am obliged to cou-
■ fc*s* has given me very little satisfaction ; and which appears to
K ne, lo leave thearaain difficulties un removed. Conscious of the
I difficulties of this subject, I beg leave to address every candid
r'- reader, in the often quoted words of an eminent author.

Vive, vale! si quid novisti rectius istis9
Candidas imperii; si no/i, his utere mecum.

Hor. Epist. 1. i. E. vi. ver. 67,

%

Farewell ! and if a better system's thine,

Impart it frankly, or make use of mine* Francis.

ASTRONOMICAL OBSERVATIONS ON COMETS.

The number of Comets is supposed to amount to 450, but
; tbey do not all, after the manner of the Planets, revolve in the
„" same direction; for nearly one half of them is observed to go
agreeably to the" order of the Signs, an J the other half in a direc-
tion quite opposite. Their revolutions, for which according
. lo the principles of gravitation and projection, it is scarcely pos-
: sible to account, are known lo be performed in very eccentric

[ellipses, the lower focus of each of which is in or near the suu.
. Throughout their courses, they are governed by the law of de-
scribing equal areas in fequal times, which is known to regulate
the motions of all the other bodies in the system. All their or-
bits have considerable inclinations to those of art the other Plan-
ets ; — a circumstance which certainly could never have been the
work of chance. Undoubtedly it has been so appointed by the
wisdom of the Deity to prevent a possibility of their collision
witfe any of the other circumvolving bodies. This'admirable
contrivance is a convincing proof of the divine foresight ; who
has ordered all things well : for, wer* any of these Comets to
move in paths coincident, or nearly coincident with the paths
of the planets, at the point of intersection, Uiey might, at some
time meet and then the consequences of the shock would be* fatal.

428

The Wonders of

Sir Isaac Newton was the first to deduce a series of sound
reasoning from the hypothesis of gravitation, by which lie clear-
ly demonstrated that one and the same principle, viz. the power
of gravity, produced and regulated all the motions of the mun-
dane system.

Dr. Halley knew that on that principle, the time of a com-
et's return might be foretold almost as certainly as that of a
planet, if its period could be but once deduced from previous
observations. — To this arduous task he therefore applied himself
and from History collected such observations as seemed fully to
satisfy him with regard to the periods of two of the Comets, vis.
that of 1680, and that of 1682. The former, indeed, of these ec-
centric bodies proving a period of 575 years, put the observation
of its return at so great a distance, as to make the certainty of '
its revolutionary period of no use for several ages to come. Its
heat is supposed, when nearest the sun, to be 2000 times greater
than red-hot iron; and that bring thus heated, it must retain its
heat till it comes round again, although its period should be
20,000 vears, instead of 575. How wonderful are thv works,
O Lord God!

The Comet of 1682, having a period the shortest of all, this
philosopher, with a becoming confidence, predicted its return,
and lived himself, within a few j'cars, to see his own prediction
accomplished. At the return of this Comet to the sun, it
came so near, and stayed in his neighbourhood so long, as to
acquire an accelerated motion by the force of the Sun's heat.

Owing to this cause, when it left the Sun, it, from necessity,
went off with greater velocity than at any former period of the
revolution, and shot forth into a wider immensity of space : con-
sequently the time of its return was thereby made longer, and
occasioned the Doctor to say, that it probably would not return
until the end of 1758 or the beginning of 1759. At this time
it really did appear, and fixed the cera of perfection in this part
of celestial science.

SUPERNATURAL PHENOMENON.

The darkness at our Saviour's crucifixion, supernatural.

[Clarke's Commentary.]

From the account given of the nature of eclipses, it plainly
appears that the sun can never be eclipsed in a natural way,
but at the time of new moon, nor the moon, but when she »

Jsaturt and Providence.

429

lull; and that when the sun is- totally eclipsed, die dark-
ness can never continue above five minutes at any place of the
earth.

But the three Evangelists, St. Matthew, St. Mark, and St.
Luke, mention a darkness that, continued three hours, at the
time of our Saviour's Crucifixion. If their account of that
darkness had been false, it would have been contradicted by
many who were then present ; especially as they were great
enemies both to Christ and his few disciples, as well as to the
doctrine he taught. But as none of the Jews have contradict-
ed the Evangelists' account of this most extraordinary phenom-
enon, it is plain, that their account of it is true. Besides, the
Evangelists must have known full well, that it could not be
x their interest to palm such a lie upon mankind ; which, when
detected, must have gone a great way towards destroying the
credibility of all the rest of the account they gave of the Life,
Actions, and Doctrine of their Master: And instead of forward-
ing the belief of Christianity, it would have been a blow at
the very root thereof. We do not find that they have bestowed
any panegyric on the life and actions of Christ, or thrown out
an invective against his cruel persecutors ; but, in the most plain,
simple, and artless manner, have told us what their senses con-
vinced them were matters, of fact : So that we have a* good rea-
son to believe that there was such darkness, as we have to be-
lieve that Christ was then upon earth : and that he was, has nev-
er been contradicted even by the Jews themselves.
■ But there are other accounts of Christ, besides those which
the Evangelists have left us. It is expressly affirmed by the
Roman historians, Tacitus and Suetonius, that there was a gen-
eral expectation spread all over the Eastern nations, that out of
Jadea should arise a person who should be governor of the
world. That there lived in Judea, at the time which the gos-
pel relates, such a person as Jesus of Nazareth, k • acknowl-
edged by all authors both Jewish and Pagan, who have written
since that time. The star that appeared at his birth, and the
journey of the Chaldean wise men, is mentioned by Chalcidius
the Platonist. Herod's causing the children in Bethlehem to
be slain, and a reflection upon him, on that occasion, by the
emperor Augustus, is related by Macrobius. Many of the
miracles that Jesus wrought, particularly his healing the lame,
and curing the blind, and casting out devils, are owned by these
inveterate and implacable enemies of Christianity, Celsus and
Julian, and the authors of the Jewish Talmud. That the
power of the heathen gods ceased after the coming of Christ,
is acknowledged by Porphyry, who attributed it to their being
angry at the setting up of the Christian religion, which he calls

430

The Wonders of

impious and profane. The crucifixion of Christ under Pontius
Pilate, is related by Tacitus, and the earthquake and miracu-
lous darkness attending it, were recorded in the public Roman
Registers, commonly appealed to by the first Christian writers,
as what could not be denied by the adversaries themselves ; and
are in a particular manner attested by Phlegon, the freed man
of Adrian.

Some people have said, that the above-mentioned darkness
might have been occasioned by a natural eclipse of the sun ; and
consequently, that there was nothing miraculous in it. If this
had been the case, it is plain that our Saviour must have been
crucified at the time of new moon. But then in a natural way,
the darkness could not possibly have continued for more than
five minutes ; whereas, to have made it continue for three hours,
the moon's motion in her orbit must .have been stopped for three
hours, and the earth's motion on its axis must have been stopped
as long too. And then, if the power of gravitation had not
been suspended during all that time, the moon would have fallen
a great way towards the earth. So that nothing less than a
triple miracle must have been wrought to have caused such a
long continued darkness by the interposition of the moon be-
tween the sun and any part of the earth : which shews that
they who make such a supposition, are entirely ignorant of the
nature cf eclipses. Rut there could be iVb natural or regular
eclipse of the sun on the day of Christ's crucifixion ; as the
moon was full on that day, and consequently in the side of the
heavens opposite to the sun. And therefore, the darkness at
the time of his crucifixion was quite supernatural.

The Israelites reckoned their months by the course of the
moon, and their years, (after they left Egypt,) by the revolu-
tion of the sun, computed from the equal day and night in
Spring to the like lime again. For we find they were told by
the almighty, (Exod. xii. 2,) that the month Abih (or Nisaih)
should be to them the first month of the year. This \va? the
month in which they were delivered from their Egyptian bon-
dage, and includes part of March, and part of April in our way
of reckoning.

In several places of the Old Testament, we find that the Is-
realites were strictly commanded to kill the Paschal Lamb in
the evening, (or, as it is in the Hebrew, between the evenings) of
the fourteenth day of the first month ; and Josephus expressly
says, "The passover was kept on the fourteenth day of the
mouth Nisan, according to the moon, when the sun was in
Aries." And the sun always enters the sign Aries, when the day
and night are equal in the spring season.

I

Nature and Providence. 431

They began each month on the first day of the moon's being
visible, which could not be in less than twenty-four hours after
the lime of her change ; and the moon is full on the fifteenth
day reckoned from the time of change. Hence, the fourteenth
day of the month, according to the Israelites' way of reckoning,
was the day of full moon, which makes it plain that the pass-
over was always kept on a full moon day ; and at the time of
die full moon next after the equal day and night in the spring;
or when the sun was in Aries.

All the four Evangelists assure us, that our Saviour was
crucified at the time of the passover : And hence it is plain,
that the crucifixion was at the lime of full moon, when it was
impossible that the moon could hide the sun from any part of
the earth. St. John tells us, that Christ was crucified on the
day that the passover was to be eaten ; and we likewise find,
that some remonstrated against his being crucified " on the
{east-day, lest it should cause an upr6ar among the people."

■■■•ii"

THE PHENOMENON OF LIGHT.

The origin and propagation of Light, according to Moses, the

Pronhet.

[Eng. Meth. Mag.]

" In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.
And the earth was without form and void ; and darkness was
upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved
upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let their be
light : And there whs light. And God saw the light that it was
good. And God divided the light from the darkness. And
God called the light day, and the darkness he called night :
And the evening and the morning were the first day."

It is reasonable to suppose, that when God created the heav-
ens and the earth he gave existence to all the several elements
which now compose this world, and nil the other systems that
are connected therewith. What is termed chaos or the abyss,
seems to have consisted of all the various principles of matter
which were at first without order, or particular arrangement.
The Hebrew word in this part of the writings of Moses, sig-
nifies, to give being to what before was non-existent : and seems
to point out the forming of specitical creatures into their partic-
ular classes : and to denote the inakinjr sdl thwi* vcy
their kiwi.

The tVondets aj

The first distinct creature that Moses takes notice of, is Light '
which he informs us, was created by the commandment of
Almighty. " He spake, and it was done ; He commandec^
and it stood fast." We have reason to conclude, from Script
ture, that the visible fabric of the heavens and the earth wsu—
not the first work of God; for the angel*, those sons of the Al- 5
mighty, those morning stars, sang for joy, when the foundations—
of this system were laid. It is altogether uncertain how longs
that spiritual system had stood before this world was created^
but it is highly probable, and almost certain, that there was M
spiritual system before this world was formed in the manner tiM
now is.

It appears very probable that all the moving powers hi na-
ture received their existence when the matter, of which the
heavens and the earth are made, was first created. This «
called bv Moses the abvss. or matter without form or order,
and void or empty, without utility. When the Almighty said.
' Let there be light,9 we are not to imagine that this command
was the cause of the creation of the principles of light ; the
materials were already created, but it called them into another
form than that in which they were before. The chaotic mass
contained the principles and materials of all bodies but with-
out order. So Moses tells us that all things were tohii ve~
bohu, — confusion and emptiness, and that darkness was over all
the ebyss.

The divine commandment which produced light, must be-
considered as operating upon the properties of matter already
created : and as light is found to proceed from the motion otT
luminous particles, we must conceive some central force, or at—
tracting power, to be the instrument of producing this phenome—
nou of light. There seem to be moving principles in all na-
ture, which, when put in motion by the first cause, produce na —
tural effects according to fixed and established laws : tvhicl*
cannot be altered unless by the First Mover.

The origin of that light which now renders bodies visible ti*1
Us, scorns chiefly to bo fire; tftoutdi light and fire are not in-
separably connected ; for light may be propagated where therf
is no fire, as from putrid bodies, and tire may be where therr
is no light as in iron, sulphur, fcc.

According to Moses, Light was the first specifical creatnre
that was formed in this system, but the materials were already
created when the other matter, of which the heavens and the
earth were formed, received its existence. Moses seems plainly
to hint at the operation of a principle in the universe, which, as
a second cause, produced the phenomenon of light. This most
probably, was tiie motion of tUr> luminous mid fierv particle5

Nature and Providence.

43S

he chaotic mass, which, at the divine command, separated
n selves from the other gross materials of the miscellaneous

■ position, and by an attractive sympathy associated in one
\y, and after three natural days, formed that body which we
br call the sun.

Vhethcr there be any subtle body, of a purer nature than
, in this system, is of little consequence in this enquiry ; for,
nitting that similar particles have, according to their nature,
utility, or power to attract one another when put in motion,
nswers all the purposes required. The first thing that Moses
es notice of in the order of the things created, is the centre
this system, which he calls -nx or light ; and which after a
irt progression rested in the sun, the common centre of this
teiu of which we are a part. And by the influence of this
Ural light, or fire, the various parts of the system were ba-
iced, and, by mutual attraction, moved in the expanse, at de-
miueil distances.

The account which Moses gives of the abyss, or deep, as it is
led in our translation, is very favourable to the idea which
' Isaac Newton'has suggested concerning attraction and gravi-
ion ; for the Hebrew word signifies, to move with a sort of
lfused motion. This shews that the chaotic mass had some
lvhating powers in it, before the forming of the system; and
*t the attracting and repelling forces were naturally and ori-
lally in the universe ; and th.it the first mover gave them, in a
Cular course, their specified direction, and systematical at-
ctious. Thus it is imagined that the doctrine of Moses,
?n in point of philosophy, is much more agreeable to the
;tera of Sir Isaac Newton, than that of Mr. Hutchinson ; and
loes not appear that there is any thing said by Moses that
*tradicts our great natural Philosopher, or that there is any
pg advanced by the hitter, that is not consistent with the
i ncipia of Moses. • •

As light is a fluid composed of lucid particles, of which many

■ of an igneous nature, and have the power of burning, and
iers cive light without having any fire in their composition ;
se all act according to their different attractions, or gravita-
n. When lucid igneous particles are strongly attracted to
^ another in gie;it quantities, their heat becomes intolerable,
3 is capable of destroying the most solid bodies. It is well
own that the rays of light comerged in the focus of one of
irtsocker's burning-glasses, will produce wonderful effects:
«» kad, or any s .it metal, will dissolve at the first touch ; and
■II, which endures a very strong fire before it dissolves, will
klt before one of these glasses in a minute's lime. This plainly
-vvs us that, provided there were not a wise and Almighty

55

434

The ff oiuUj's of

Providence, that manages and directs all things, those materials
which are of the greatest advantage to the world, would soon
destroy it. If the rays of light were to form solid bodies
and depart from their state of fluidity, they would, in the twink-
ling of an eye, reduce this globe to allies, or render it liquid fire.

Were the rays of light all of one kind, it is probable that
they might unite and become solid bodies ; but the wisdom of
Providence hath formed them both of d liferent colours, and of
different reflections and refrangibility. This prevents then
from associating in such a manner as to do hurt, unless they an
converged by some instrument which hinders them -from flying
off. As all rays of light have not the same degree of refleii-
bilitv and refrangibility, but some are capable of greater re-
flexions and refractions than others, they cannot without force
be united in one solid body, though they are all serviceable lor
the purposes of light, and contribute to the happiness of men,
and the welfare of all living creatures. Whether Moses in-
tended a philosophical account of light in this chapter, I w9
not pretend to say ; but one thing is certain, that he makes me
of a word which points out some of the principal properties irf
light, to, signifies that body which renders objects visibly
which we call light ; it also signifies fire, and perhaps Moses,
intended to point out in one word, what in our language !*•
quires two, light and fire. Whatever may be the philosophic
differences between these two, we are certain that they are sel-
dom separated. It is also plain that the sun is not the sole
source of light any more than he is of fire ; for light may be
propagated where the sun never shines, as may be proved b;
many instances : but the sun is the principal source of light to
our system.

There has been a violent dispute between the philosophers on
the Continent and those in Em: land, concerning the propaga-
tion of light. The former make light a fluid of a most subtile,
fine, and active substance, dispersed over all the world, which
affects our eyes, when it is carried towards them by the impres-
sion of a body on fire.* The latter affirm that corporeal liirbl
is a substance which the body in fire emits out of itself with the
utmost rapidity. Sir Isaac Newton has demonstrated this lat-
ter opinion, by so many wonderful experiments, that it is im-
possible to deny the propagati n of light, without being devoted
to scepticism. The author of Spectacle de la Nature has en-
deavoured to shew, " that as there is no body in all the creation
more useful than light, so there are none of more extraordinary
qualities, and more wonderful in their qualities. In the rays of
light are discovered all the original colours in nature, red. or-

* Biaforv oi *fi*> Hawaii*

Nature and Providence.

435

, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet : and the quantity
►lour in light is in the same proportion as the seven ma-
notes, or intervals of sound in an octave.f From experi-
s \ffs found thiit those rays of light are of the largest quan-
Lhal paint the brightest colours ; and of all these, the red
have the least refrangibility. Light is in itself wonderful ;
its use to the world is bgyoud all expression : It discovers to
and beast innumerable objects of pleasure, as well as the
as of life. Without it, motion would be dangerous, and
insipid. True are the words of the Hebrew philosopher,
ght is sweet, and a pleasing thing it is for the eyes to behold
sun."

Tie sufferings of Thecla — Account of St. Paul's person*

[Translated from the Greek.]

THE PREFACE.

[Meth. Mag. — Eng.] .

he following fragment is unquestionably of very great an-
ty ; but it has been without foundation ascribed to St. Paul,
facts were never questioned either by the friends or ene-
i of Christianity for many centuries : though they were often
brated, and are frequently mentioned .by writers of the first
t in the christian church.

[er history is confirmed by Gregory Nazianzen, and Gre-
y of Nysse, Ambrose, Chrysostom, Isidorus, and others..
>rian of Antioch, who flourished in the third century, prays
he suffering martyrs thus : " Stand by us*, O Lord, as thou
t by the Apostles in bonds, by THECLA in the fire, by
I in persecutions, by Peter in the waves,
ertullian, one of the most ancient writers in the church,
ms us, DeBaptismo, c. 17. that it was compiled by apres-
r of Asia ; a man extremely attached to St. Paul, who
ly ventured to publish it, under the Apostle's name, towards
lose of the first century ; and that being charged with it by
Evangelist John, he confessed the fact, alleging that he had
it out of fervent love to the Apostle. , This account is con-
ed by Jerome, who quotes Tertullian.
is supposed to have happened about the year of our Lord
luring the last time that St. Paul visited Asia, and not long
+ Sir In«c Newton's Optic* Book I. Part IL Prob. 1U*

4. The IVunders of

before he suffered martyrdom : which according to Eusebius,
wa3 near the close of Nero's reign : Jerome fixes it in the thirty-
seventh >ear after tie passion of our Lord.

Tlie Greek ropy, which is taken fn>m a manuscript in the
Bodleian Library, and published by Grabe, is in many place*
defective, and in others much corrupted. Its defects are partly
supplied from an ancient Latin version in the Bodleian Library,
and from the Greek Commentary of Basilius Selcuciensia.

When Paul was going: up to Iconium, as he fled from An-
tioch, he was accompanied by Hcrmoircncs and Demas, men
full of hypocrisy. But Paul intent only on the goodnes* of
God suspected no evil of them, but loved them exceedingly,
making the words of Christ and his gospel pleasant unto them,
and discoursing to them of the knowledge of Christ as it was
revealed to him.

But a cert iin man named Oncsiphorus hearing that Paul
was coming to Iconium went forth to meet him, with his wile
Lectia, and their children, Simmia and Zeno, that they might
receive him into their house ; for Titus had informed them o!
the person of Paul, for as yet they had not known him in the
flesh. Walking therefore in the king's highway which leads
towards Lystra, they waited, expecting to receive him. Not
long after they saw Paul coming towards them, a man small
of stature — bald — his legs distorted — his eye-brows knit togeth-
er— his nose aqncline — but manifestly full of the e/race of God ?
for his countenance was sometimes like that of a man. mid
sometimes like that of an angel. And Paul seeing One.-iphu-
rus was glad.

And Onesiphorus said unto him. Hail thou servant of the
Blessed. Paul replied, grace be wit!) thee nnd with thy house.
Demas and Hermogeues filled with en\y and dissimulation cried
out, And are we not the servants cf the hhsscd / Why hast
thou not saluted vs? To whom Oncsiphorus answered, I do not
see in you the fruits of righteousness : but if ye are indeed wi.
come and abide also at my house. So Pan! went with him,
and there was great joy in the house of Onesiphorus ; and hav-
ing fallen upon their knees and prayed, and broken bread, Paul
preached to them the word of God, concerning temperance, and
the resurrection, to this effect :

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. Bles-
sed are they that keep the flesh unspotted, for they shall become
the temples of God.

Blessed are they that renounce this present world, for they
shall please God. Blessed are they that have wives as tlwuirh
they had them not, for s\v&\\\tcohgk vVW* the augels of God.

Nature and Providence.

437

Blessed are they that tremble at the words of God, for they shal
be comforted.

Blessed are they that receive the wisdom of Jesus Christ, for
they shall be called the sons of God. Blessed are they that
keep the knowledge of Jesus ChrisU, for they shall dwell in light.
Blessed are they that for the love of Christ have forsaken the
form of this world, for they shall judge angels, and shall sit at
the right hand of Christ, and shall see the day of judgment
without bitterness.

Whilst Paul was discoursing thus in the house of Onesipho-
rus, Thecla, daughter of Tlieoclia, a virgin who was espoused
to Thamyris, a prince of the city, standing at the window of
her house continued night and day to hear t!;e word spoken by
Paul concerning the love of Cod, and fiith in Christ ; nor
would she be removed : hut being filled with exceeding joy, be
came subject to the faith. And seeing many women and young
persons entering in to hear Paul, she was exceedingly desirous
of being counted worthy to stand in his presence, and to hear
the word of Christ ; for as vet she had never seen the person of
Paul.

And as she continued thus to h.*ar him, Theoclia her mother
sent for Thamyris, and informed him, that Thecla had not risen
from her place for three days, neither to eat, nor to drink ;* but
in fixed attention on the words of Paul, had wholly given her-
self to that stranger ; teaching seducing and wicked opinions ;
adding, This is the man that hath stirred up the whole city of
Iconium, and that hath perverted Thecla. But go thou and
speak to her for fIic is espoused to thee.

Thamyris fearing the* distraction of her mind, spake to 1i«t
with tenderness : " Why, Thecla, dost thou sit dejected thus,
with thine eyes fixed on the ground ? What new passion hath
seized thee, and turned thee to this stranger? Turn to thy
Thamyris and be ashamed.'' But .she answering nothing, her
mother and attendants wept bitterly. But Thecla continued
unmoved, turned from them, to the word spoken by Paul.

Thamyris fdlcd with despair, left the house, and going into
the street watched those that went in and came out from Paul.

And seeing two men sharply contending, he said, "Sirs, in-
form me who is this your companion, that seduces the minds
of men, forbidding them to marrj ? I oiler you great rewards
if ye will declare, for I am chief in this city." Demas and
Ilermogenes replied, " We do not well know who this man is;
but he deprives men of their wives, and virgins of their husbands,
declaring that there will be no resurrection except they continue
pure, and free from the pollutions of the flesh."

• Aft*»r her ordhjarr gumptuoui manner.

Aot The Wonders of

i

Then Thamyris invited them to come and refresh themselves
at his house. And having honourably entertained and reward-
ed them, he said, "Tell me, I pray you, Sirs, what is the doc-
trine of Paul, that 1 may know :- — for I am in great anguish for
Thecla, on account of her love for this stranger ?" Demas and
Hermogenes, with one voice, cried out, " Deliver him to the
governor as one that persuadeth the people to receive the doc-
trine of the Christians ; and let him be put te death by the de-
cree of the Emperor ; and thou shalt have thy wife, and we will
instruct her that the resurrection which he teacheth hath already
taken place, and that we then have truly risen, when we are
come to the knowledge of God."

Thamyris hearing these things was filled with rage ; and ris-
ing early in the morning, went with officers and a guard, ac-
companied by a great multitude, to the house of Onesiphoras,
and demanded Paul ; saying, " Thou hast corrupted the city
of Iconium and Thecla : come therefore to the governor." —
And all the people cried out, " Away with this sorcerer, for he
hath corrupted our women.

And Thamyris standing before the judgment seat, cried with
a loud voice to the governor, " We know not whence this man
is — but he suflereth not our women to marry ; let him therefore
declare before thee for what cause he teacheth these things."
And the governor rising called to Paul and said, " Who art
thou ? And what is thy doctrine ? Grievous things are laid to
thy charge ?

And Paul lifting up his voice, said, " If I am questioned with
respect to my doctrine, O Governor, God, that seeketh nothing
but the salvation of men — the Almighty hath sent me to torn
thrm from corruption and uncleanness, from sinful pleasures,
and from death eternal. And for this cause, God hath sent his
Sou Jesus Christ, and I teach that men should place all their
confidence in him. He alone hath had compassion on the of-
fending world, that they might not fall into condemnation, but
might have faith, and the fear of God, and sobriety of life, and
the love of the truth. If, therefore, I teach these things only
that have been revealed to me of God, in what do I offend?'1
The governor, hearing these things, commanded Paul to he
bound, and to be cast into prison, till he should have opportu-
nity of hearing him more fully.

But Thecla, finding that Paul was cast into prison, arose by
night, and pulling off her ear-rings gave them to the porter, and
delivering her silver mirror looking-glass to the keeper of the
prison, she was admitted to see Paul ; and placing herself at
his feet, she heard the wonderful things of God. And per-
ceiving that Paul regarded not what he suffered, but that he

Nature and Providence.

439

had confidence in the help of God, she was exceedingly con-
firmed in the faith.

When the morning arose great enquiry was made after The-
cla by her household, and by Thamyris ; for they feared that
evil had befallen her. And examining the porter, they found
that she was gone to the prison. And stirring up the people
they departed thence, and made it known to the governor : who
commanded that Paul should be again brought to the judg-
ment-seat. But Thecla still continued in the prison, and pros-
trated herself on the place where Paul had sat and instructed
her. At length the governor commanded that she also should
be called to the judgment-seat. Thecla hearing this went forth
with great joy. But the people cried out more vehemently
against Paul, " He is a sorcerer, let him be put to death not-
withstanding this the governor willingly heard Paul.

And having taken counsel he commanded Thecla to be
brought near, and said unto her, " Wherefore art thou not ac-
cording to the laws of Iconium, given in marriage to Thamyris."
Bat Thecla, fastening her eyes steadfastly on Paul, answered
nothing. Then her mother vehemently cried out, she should
be burnt, that others might fear.

And the governor being exceedingly moved, commanded Paul
to be scourged, and to be cast out of the city ; but he condemn-
ed Thecla to be burnt.

At the time appointed, the governor went forth with the
whole multitude to the theatre, to attend at this rmel spectacle.
Then as a lamb in the desert looks round for her shepherd,
so did Thecla for Paul. And after she had looked upon the
multitude, she saw the Lord Jesus standing near, in the like-
ness of Paul : and she said within herself, " Paul is come to
gee me, as though 1 should not suffer patiently." And fasten-
ing her eyes upon him she saw him ascending up into heaven :
then she understood what she had seen was the Lord. After
her robes were taken off, she was brought forth : and the gov-
ernor was struck with the force of her beauty and the patience
and strength of her mind. The wood being placed in order, the
people compelled her to ascend the pile. And she, stretching
forth her hands in earnest prayer, ascended. And the people
having, put fire to it, the flame spread on every side, but it had
not power to hurt her '; for God had compassion upon her. And
suddenly there was a great noise in the heavens, and a dark
cloud overspread the amphitheatre, and the rain and hail poured
down with great violence. So the fire was extinguished and
Thecla delivered.

Paul had fled in the mean time with Onesiphorus and his
family to a tomb which lay in the way between Iconium and

440

The Wonders of

Daphne, and they continued fasting many days. Then sending
forth one of the "children to buy bread, he fousd Tbecla in the
way seeking for Paul.

When Thecla was come to the tomb she found Paul praying,
and she cried out " O Almighty Lord, Creator of heaven ami
earth, Father of thy holy and well-beloved Son Jesus Chritt,
I bless thee that thou hast delivered me from the fire, and ghen
me again to see thy servant Paul." And Paul answered, "0
God that searchest the heart, Father of our Lord Jesiis Christ,
I thank thee that thou hast heard me."

And breaking bread they refreshed themselves in all the holy
works of Christ. And Thecla said uuto Paul, I will follow thee
whithersoever thou goest. But he replied, the days are evil—
and thou art a beautiful woman — but patiently wait, and thoc
shalt receive the gift of Christ.

Having sent Oncsiphorus and his family to their own honse,
ho tool: Thecla, and -departed towards Antioch. There Alex-
ander, a m:u. of great power in the city, saw and would have
offered violeiicj to her. But she cried out dishonour not the
handmaid of the Lord, and having repulsed him put him to
great shame. Being filled with indignation, he brought her
before the governor, who being bribed, condemned her to be
cost to the wild beasts.

Thecla earnestly entreated the governor that her innocence
might be preserved in safety, till she was brought forth to exe-
cution. When the governor had demanded with whom she
might ^e entrusted ? Trypbapna, a woman of great wealth in the
city, whose only daughter had lately died, made request to have
the charge of her.

On the day when she was brought forth to the amphitheatre,
they cast ber to a very fierce lioness. But when Thecla walked
up to the lioness, the savage beast received her with a kind of
reverence, and offered no violence to her, but came and geudy
licked her feet.

The people seeing this, vehemently cried out, appealing to
God, and condemning the unrighteous sentence. And Try-
pha?na again took the charge of her till the morrow.

When the morning arose, Alexander came to the house of
Tryphama, to demand Thecla. Tryphapna taking her by the
hand led her forth saying, 1 conducted Faleonella to the tomb :
stud now I lead Thecla to the wild beasts. Thecla hearing this
wept and prayed, " O Lord God in whom I have trusted, re-
ward Trvph.'iMia for her compassion towards me thy servant !'*

On her entering, there was a tumultuous noise in the theatre,
the roaring of the wild bensis, the clamours of the people, and
the lamentations of the women condemning the unrighteous
sentence.

mXamre and Projildtnfi*

4*41

Tliecla being taken from Tryphrena was again cast into the
theatre. And another fierce lioness ruuning towards her in-
stantly cast herself at her feet. Then a bear roused by the cries
of the people, ran towards her. But the lioness rising, fell
upon her, and tore her in pieces. At length a very savage lion
came forth that had been accustomed to devour men. The
lioness ran towards him. They fought for some time, till they
fell dead together.

Tryphania, who was pfaced in the highest part of the theatre,
seeing this, sunk down, and was taken up for dead. The whole
city was filled with terror : for Tryphaena belonged to the em-
peror's familv. And Alexander himself besought the governor
saying, have compassion on the city, and send this pestilent wo-
man hence, lest the whole city be destroyed.

The governor calling to Thccla from the midst of the wild
beasts said to her, " Woman declare who art thou — and by
what power hast thou been preserved." Thecla replied, " I
am a servant of the living God, and have believed on his Son
Jesus Christ, in whom he is well pleased, therefore have I beeu
delivered. He alone is the way to eternal salvation. He is a
refuge from the storm, a rest to the afflicted, a defence to those
that are in despair, and whosoever believcth not on him shall not
see life."

The governor hearing this, commanded her to be clothed.
Thecla answered, " My God, that hath clothed me, defence*
less amidst the wild beasts^ clothe thee with salvation in the day
of judgment !" Then the governor proclaimed, " Thecla, ser-
vant of God, I command thee to be discharged." And the
women with one voice gave glory to God, crying out, u He is
God alone whom Thecla worships. He alone is God, who
hath preserved Thccla."

The whole city was soon moved at their cries ; and the tid-
ings being brought to Tryphaena, she revived and arose, and
went forth to meet Thecla, wbg embracing her, she said, " Now
I believe that the dead are raised— Now I believe that ray child
liveth. Come Thecla my daughter, to my house, and all that
I have shall be thine." On this Thecla returned with Tryph&~
na, and tarried with her certain days, and taught her the word
of the Lord, and many women were subject to the faith, and
Tryphaena and all her household believing, there was a great
joy in the house of Tryphaena.

But Thecla had an earnest desire to see Paul, to be further
instructed by him. And sending to every quarter, she sought
after him. When it was told her that he was at Mvra in Ly-
ifia, she went forward to seek him. And tvhen she found Paul

5*

442

Tlie IVoaden of

preaching the word of God, she placed herself amongst the
hearers. Paul marvelled greatly at seeing her. And taking
her to the house of Hermes, she related to him all that bad be-
fallen her ut Antioch. All that heard these things were esta-
blished in the faith, and offered up prayer for Tryphaena. And
Thecla arising, said unto Paul, I go unto Iconium. And Paul
said unto her go, and teach the word of Ged. And Tryphsna
when she heard that Thecla was going to Iconium, sent her
much gold and raiment for the relief of the poor saints.

And Thecla departed thence to Iconium, and entering into
the house of Onesiphorus fell on her face, where she bad first
heard Paul, praying with many tears, and giving thanks to God
and saying, " Lord God of this house, where thy light first
shined upon me, Jesus, thou .Son of the living God, who wait
my helper before the governor, my deliverer iu the fire, my
protector from the wild beasts ; thou alone art God, for ever
and ever. Amen."

THE WORKS OF .GOD DISPLAYED.
An Account of the Diamond Mines in Hindostan*
[Eng. Mag.]

" A considerable portion of the rural labour of Hindostan b
abstracted from agriculture, its proper object, and employed in
the diamond mines. Of the four principal mines, that of Roal-
conda, five days journey from Golconda, is the most ancient ;
for Tavernier says that it was discovered two hundred years
before his time. Around the place where the diamonds ait
fonnd in this mine, the ground is sandy, and full of rocks, in
which .there are veins of half a finger, to a whole finger m
width. The miners make use of irons with hooks at the end,
with which they pick out the earth or sand, from these veins,
which they put into tub?,, and among that earth they find the
diamonds.

" There are several diamond cutters at this time, but jione
of them have above one mill, which is of steel. Tavernier, who
is a judge of (his subject, asserts, that the natives cannot gift
that lively polish to the stones which the Europeans do, ytt
they can cut some which our lapidaries will not undertake.

"There are two kinds of merchants employed in this traffic]
the one takes a portion of the ground, and employs miners #
dig. paying a duty to \h* k\t\$ of four pagodas per dav, for

Nature and Pfoui'dtnh . 4 13

wery hundred men employed in the works ; the other class of
merchants are merely purchasers of the stones from the first ;
and they also pay a duty to the king, of about two per cent,
for all that they buy.

44 Of this latter class was M. Tavernicr, who has given by far
the most detailed and authentic account of this trade that has
yet reached Europe. He had made many different journeys
to the different mines of India, and in this traffic accumulated
an immense fortune.

44 4 It is very pleasing,1 he observes, 4 to see the youn.: * hil-
dren of the merchants, and other people of the countij, who
seat themselves under a tree in a square of the town, and though
not older than fifteen or sixteen year?, and many still younger,
they make bargains with perfect skill and exactness. Each
has his diamond weights, and a bag hanging by one side, with
a purse at the other ; \\av he sits, expecting his customers, who
come to sell. When any person brings a stone, it is put into
the hands of the eldest of these boys, who sits as a kind of chief,
and after having examined it, passes it to the rest one after an-
other, till all have seen it, when it is again returned to him. —
Meanwhile, not a word is spoken, till he demand the price, with
a view to purchase it. if possible ; and should he buy it too
dear, it is on his own account. In the evening the children
compute what they have laid out ; then examine the ir stones, and
class them according "to their water, their weight, and clean-
ness ; they then carry them to the great merchants, who have
generally large parcels to match. The profit is then divided
among the children equally ; only the rhief among them has
one fourth per cent, more than the rest.

u The bargains made by the great merchants, both Mahoin-
edans and Hindoos, are transacted with peculiar secrecy and
dexterity. The buyer and seller sit opposite to each -other, and
without speaking a word, the one of the two opens his girdle,
the seller takes hold of the purchaser's hand, and with it he
covers it as well as his own, and according to different signs
made by the touch, perfectly understood by the parties, the
bargain is concluded. Thus in the same place, a parcel may
be sold several times, without any one present knowing that it
hath been sold at all, or for how much.

44 A3 the value of these mines depends much upon the securi-
ty and protection given to the purchasers who resort to them ;
the native governments have afforded this with much solicitude.
A particular person is appointed to weigh all the diamonds, to
•preclude all imposition in this particular ; servants are appoint-
ed to every considerable merchant during his stay^ to

The Wonders of

both his money and effects, ami not unfrequenlly an escoit'u
allowed him till he reach the frontiers of the kingdom.

" The lot of the poor natives, who work the mines, though
well skilled in their business, is invariably a hard one. Their
wages never exceed three pagodas in the year ; a subsistence so
scanty almost compels them to dishonesty. Accordingly they
make little scruple, as often as with safety they can, to hide a
stone for their own profit. As they are perfectly naked, except
the small rag round their middle, this can hardly be done but
by swallowing the stones ; and this being detected they have been
known to secrete them in the corner of the eye. To prevent
thefts, twelve or fifteen out of fifty are bound to be security for
the honesty of the rest, to the great merchant who employs
them.

" About seven days journey cast from Golconda, lies the
mine of Colour, or Gani, as it is called by the Hindoos. This
mine was discovered about a hundred years later than that of
Roalconda, by a peasant while he was preparing ground to
sow millet, who found at the foot of a high mountain, a glit-
tering stone, as he thought, but on presenting it at Golcouda
fo a diamond merchant, he was informed of its quality and val-
ue.

" The report of this trader in diamouds, who had not before
see* one of so great a weight, made much noise in the country,
and engaged themonied men in the vicinity to search the ground,
where they found many of greater size than at any other mine.
Here are produced a number of stones from ten to forty carats,
and among them some larger, particularly , that presented to
Aurengzebe, weighing nine hundred carats. In this mine the
earth is dug to a considerable depth, carried to a spot prepared
for the purpose, and there washed, and winnowed. The men,
women, and children, employed in these labours, when the
place was first visited by Taveruier, amounted to upwards of
sixty thousand ; and many superstitious ceremonies were em-
ployed to engage their diligence and fidelity to their superi-
ors.

" The third mine is that of Sumbulpour, lying thirty coss
south of Rhotas, on the confines of Bengal. The name is the
same with that of a large town on the river Gpnel, in the sands
of which the diamonds are found. After the great rains are
over, they wait for two months till the water becomes clear,
and the river has subsided So low as in some places to leave
the sand dry, in other places covering it only a few inches.
This happens about the end of January, when workers flock
to it from Sumbulpour, and the neighbouring towns, to the
amount of eight thousand persons, men, women, and children.

Nature mid Pro vide me.

** Tliey search the river from the town of Sumbulpour, ii(> to
its very source in the mountains, through a tract of a hundred
miles. Those who are skilled in the business, know from the
appearance of the sand whether it contains diamonds ; when
there is reason to believe that there are any, they enclose the
place with stakes and faggots, and draw out the sand for two
feet deep. This sand they work, sift, and winnow, as at the
other mines. * From this river,' says Tavernier, ' come all
those fair Points, called Natural Points, but a large stone is
seldom found here.9

14 The fourth diamond mine was in the Carnatic, but was or-
dered to be shut up by Mirgi Mola, the famous General of
Anrengzebe, on account, as it is said, of the yellowness of the
diamonds, and the foulness of the stones.

" The hardness, lustre, and beauty of the diamond, have con-
ferred on it a very high value as an ornament among all na-
tion* ; but no where has it been prized more than in the Mogul
territories. Rich presents of these stones to the Sovereign,
have always paved the way to rank and preferment. Hence
the value of jewels and precious stones accumulated by theEm-
peror, have been immense. In the time of Tavernier, one stone
in the possession of the Great Mogul, weighed 279 9-1 6 carats,*
and was valued by him at 11,723,278 livres, or nearly half a
million sterling. During the reign of Acber, which was before
the period when the empire reached its summit, either of wealth
or splendour, the vast treasures of the monarch were preserved
iu twelve distinct offices, three of which w ere occupied by the
jewels and plate only. To each treasury a Tepukchy and Da*
rogha were appointed, who classed the jewels in a regular man-
ner, according to their kind and value, and they were always
ready to render an exact account, daily or monthly, of their ap-
plication or expenditure. Concerning the different regulations
of the mint and jewel office, the author of the Ayeen Acberry
is more fall and luminous, than upon any other department of
the internal economy of that great empire.

" The Moguls were no less curious in other gems, than in
the diamond : Emeralds, topazes, saphires, and pearls, always
occupied a considerable part of the jewel office ; and their value
was greater than that of the diamond. Considering the small
progress that chemistry had then made in any part of the world,
their knowledge of gems, and of the precious metals, may be
regarded as both accurate and extensive. The methods laid
down for refining gold and silver, by Abul Fazel, rather resera-

* A carat is about 3 grains and one fifth troy. Vide Chalmer'fcCvcrto-

446

The tVontttrs *f

9

ble the accuracy of a professional man, than the idea of a uo-
blcman treating generally of the state of the treasury. No less
than twelve different degrees of fineness of gold, called bar-
rah barmy, are distinctly noted in his book ; and the method of
ascertaining each degree in any given specimen, is accurately
laid down.

'( The practical habit of ascertaining the goodness of coins,
or the fineness of jewels, is an attainment in which European
are at present far outdone by the uatives. Their skill in dw
matter is so decidedly superior, that every European who*
transactions are considerable, retains a native writer or Banni-
an, who receives payments for him, and who is answerable for
the sufficiency «>f the money which he accepts. In most of the
great tow ns of Ilindostan, gems and precious stones are pro-
curable as a mercantile commodity ; but an European without
professional knowledge, and much experience in this traffic,
could not safely enter into competition with the native mer-
chants.

" Another cause of the abstraction of useful hands from agri-
culture, is the pearl fishery. The natives employed in this trade
are very numerous, while the drudgery they suffer is far more
unhealthy and perilous than that of the diamond mines.

" The shell-fish which produces this jewel, is the Mytilus mar-
garitiferus, which is found adhering to the coral banks along
the shores of Tinivelly. It is fished by the natives, who assem-
ble in small boats from different quarters, at two seasons of the
year ; the first continues during March and April ; the secoad
during August and September. After each fishing, a numeroa
fair is held for the sale of the produce. Seven different village*
skirting the sea. of which Tutocoriu is the chief, have loo;
been famous for a numerous population subsisting by this traf-
fic ; but if we may judge from their toils and their dangers,
their condition cannot be envied.

" The divers sink themselves to the bottom generally at the
depth of twelve fathoms, by means of a stone fastened to their
feet, and from habit can remain under water till they fill their
bag with shells ; this effected, by a twitch of the rope they make
a signal to be drawn up. The space of eight or ten minute*
has scarcely elapsed when these miserable divers again plunge
into the sea, to repeat the same task, which continues the whele
fishing season. This is the KiAt^ffinc t» *-mx* Qf Arrian,
which from his time to the present day has constituted the drud-
gery of an unhappy race, who are thus exposed, not merely to
the danger of cold and suffocation, but to the voracity of the
shark, who devours many of their numbers, in spite of the Abra-
fair.ins, or maericians. whom they superstitiously employ to

Nature and Providence* ... '

447

charm* them. The fish when collected, are left in vast heaps
to putrify upon the shore ; and thus fever, dysentery, and a new
series of calamity is engendered among the adventurers ; who,
after all this risk and toil, pocket but small gains from a traffic,
the success of which is very precarious. The pearls in general
found are small, called seed pearls, and sold by the ounce ; the
- large, which sometimes constitute a prize in this lottery, are of
immense value, and have continued in high estimation since the
„ earliest times. A single one presented by Julius Caesar to Ser~
Ivilia, the mother of Brutus, has been estimated at above forty-
* eight thousand pounds ; others of still higher value are figured
by Tavernier, particularly that great pearl which hung from the
neck of the artificial peacock, which surmounted the diamond
throne of Aurengzebe."

THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD ASSENTED.

An account of the translation of the Bible into the English lan-
guage : 'This must be pleasing and interesting to all classes of
readers.

[Meth. Mag. — Eng.]

During the many centuries when the mists of Popish super-
stition enveloped this highly favoured island, the Bible was
scarcely known. In fact it was known to none, except to a few*,
who had learning enough, and license to read it in the original
languages, and who, at that period, were but very few. It is more
than likely that this circumstance was a principal reason of the

fyoss ignorance and iniquity which then prevailed: Hence we
nd, that after the art of printing was invented, and the Bible
translated, printed, and dispersed, truth and knowledge, which
had so long lain under the rubbish of superstition and idolatry,
again beamed forth, and darted its kindly and cheering rays or
die minds of the people.

The priests were well aware that, while they kept the peo-
ple from knowledge, and from the perusal of the Scriptures,
and thereby rendered them incapable of judging what was truth,
or What was error, they should be able to palm their lying le-
gends and abominable superstitions on their credulity.

When that bright luminary, or, as he is very properly called,
tftfot Morning Star of the reformation, the venerable John Wick-
Hffe, arose, he clearly perceived the many mischiefs which were
produced by this baleful custom. He was therefore resolved to

The Wonders of

free his countrymen from this abominabrc yoke, which their
Priests had pnfupon them ; and he accordingly began to trans-
late the Bible into English, about the year 1360, and lived to
complete the important work. But as the art of printing wa«
not invented till many years after this, it, of course, could not
be printed ; but, however, numerous copies of it were written
and dispersed abroad, and there are many copies preserved in
this day in the public libraries.

This translation led the way for another, of a part of the
scriptures by Tindal, which was printed about the year 1536,
but most of the copies were bought up by Bishop Tunsull
and Sir Thomas Moor. This was only a translation of the
New Testament, and was revised and republished by the same
person, in 1530. But this edition was also suppressed, and the
copies burnt.

These oppositions not wholly discouraging them, in 1532.
Tindall and his associates finished the whole Bible, and printed
it abroad ; but while he was afterwards preparing a second edi-
tion, his unrelenting oppressors had him imprisoned, and after-
wards burnt in Flanders for heresy. His last words were.
" Lord open the eyes of the King of England."

But the death of this blessed saint, did not prevent die prnt-
ing of a second edition ; for after his death, it was carried on by
Miles Coverdale, and John Rogers (the famous martyr in the
Marian persecution,) who translated the Apocrypha, and revised
Tindal's Translation, comparing it with the Hebrew, Greek,
Latin and German, adding prefaces and notes, from Luther*
Bible. They dedicated the whole to King Henry the Eighth,
in 1537, under the borrowed name of Thomas Mathews.
Hence it was called Mathew's Bible.

In 1540, another edition was published, revised and com-
pared with the Hebrew, and in several places corrected by
Miles C ever dale, and afterwards examined by Archbishop Cran- 1
mer, who wrote a preface to it. On this account, it was called
Craumer's Bible. By a royal proclamation, every parish was
obliged to have one of them, in its church or churches, under
the penalty of forty shillings a month. Satan, seeing this was
likely to prove very pernicious to his cause, raised another oppo-
sition, for two years after, those imps of hell, the Popish Priests,
obtaitied its suppression from the tyrannical monarch. It was
again restored, however, under that excellent monarch, Kiug Ed-
ward the Sixth, but suppressed again when Queen Mary camr
to the throne, and finally restored in the first year of Queen
Elizabeth's reign, and a new edition of it given in 1562.

In the year lf»r»2, Archbishop Parker resolved on a new
/ radiation of the scrwUvrcs, nk\\\c\\ was wKv^teted and printed

Natune and Providence*

4&

In 1578. This translation was used upwards of forty years,
and was called the bishop's Bible.

Thus has the word of God triumphed over all opposition.
The united efforts of hell and Rome, of devils and men, were
all too weak to effect their purpose. Seeing the trouble and
pains which our ancestors endured to secure this invaluable
blessing to our posterity, it should still enhance its value.
Christians, fellow-citizens, while ye have the light walk in the
light. The primitive Christians were intimately acquainted
^with the Bible, making it their companion wherever they went,
and such was their affection for it, that many of them have been
found buried with the gospel lying at their feet. The martyrs
prized the bible. Many of them were burnt, with their bibles
bound round them. Dying Christians have prized their bibles.
The last words of a celebrated person to his friend, were " Read
your Bible." Tempted Christians, do you want assistance?
Here you may learn that the grace of your heavenly Father
shall be sufficient for you, and that as your day is, so shall
your strength be. Doubting Christians, do you want consola-
tion ? Here you may hear the Saviour saying, in the most sooth-
ing and affectionate accents, " Fear not, little flock, for it is your
Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom :" " Say to
them that are of a fearful heart, *Be strong : fear not," &c.
Are you in poverty and distress, with respect to this world ?
Here you may read. " Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and
all these things shall be added unto you." " 1 have been young,
anduow am old, yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor
his seed begging bread." In short, whatever you waut, whether
help, consolation, light, or knowledge only, study this blessed
book attentively, and you shall have it. Be thankful, you are
not surrounded by worse than Pagan darkness. Read yoar
Bibles daily. " Read, till you love to read." Pray over them
daily, for divine illumination, and meditate on their contents
till you understand.

Read and revere the sacred page ! a page where triumphs im-
mortality ! a page, which not the whole creation can produce !
which not the conflagration can destroy ! So you shall be able
to say with the Psalmist, " O how I love thy law : it is my me-
ditation all the day."

57

1

4ccO

A STRANGE PROVIDENCE.

Jin account of two faithful lovert, who were united by the fury ef
an Earthquake.

[Eng.Mag.]

The plains, in which Lima, the capital city of Peru is placed,
are the most beautiful in the world. They are of vast extent,
reaching from the foot of the Andes or Cordelier Mountains, to
thfe sea ; and are covered with groves of olive-trees, of oranges,
and citrons, watered by . many streams ; one of the principal
among which, washing the walls of Lima, falls into the ocean
at Callao ; in which latter place it laid the scene of this ensu-
ing history.

To this city, Don Juan de Meudoia had come over with hk
father from Old Spain, when an infant. The father, having
borne many noble employments in Peru, died much esteemed
and honoured rather than rich. This young gentleman had,
in early youth, conceived a very strong passion for Donna Cor-
nelia di Perez, daughter to a very wealthy merchant, who dwelt
in the city of Callao, at that time the best port in the whole '
Western world.

But, although the young lady, who was reputed the most ac-
complished person in the Indies, returned 'his affection ; yet lie
met with an insuperable difficulty in the avarice and inflexible
temper of the father, who, prefering wealth to every other con-
sideration, absolutely refused his consent. At length the un-
fortunate lover saw himself under the necessity of returning to
his native country, the most miserable of all mankind, torn
away for ever from all that he held most dear. He was now
on board, in the port of Callao, and the ship ready to sail for
Spain. The wind fair ; the crew all employed ; the passengers
rejoicing in the expectation of seeing again the place of their
nativity.

Amid the shouts and acclamations, with which the whole bay
resounded, Mendoza snt upon deck alone, overwhelmed with
sorrow, beholding those towers, in which he had left the only
person who could have made him happy, whom he was never
more to behold : a thousand tender, a thousand melancholy
thoughts possessed his mind. In the mean time the serenity of
the sky is disturbed ; sudden flashes of lightning dart across
which increasing fill the whole air with flame.

A noise is heard from the bowels of the earth, at first low and
rumbling; but growing louder, and soon exceeding the roaring

JYature und PrGcutznce*

of the most violent thunder. This was instantly followed by a
trembling of the earth : the first shocks were of short continu-
ance ; but in a few minutes they became quicker, and of longer
duration. The sea seemed to be thrown up into the sky, the
arch of heaven to bend downwards. The Cordeliers, the high- 1
est mountains of the earth, shook, and roared with unutterable
noises, sending forth from their bursting sides rivers of flame,
and throwing up immense rocks. The houses, arsenals, and
chnrches of Callao tottered from side to side, and at last tum-
bled upon the heads of the wretched inhabitants.

Those who bad not perished in this manner, you might see of
every age and sex, rushing into the streets and public roads, to
escape from the like ruins. But even there was no safety : the
whole earth was in motion ; nor was the ocean less disturbed :
some of the ships in the harbour were torn from their anchors,
some of them swallowed up in the waves, some dashed on rocks,
many thrown several miles up into the hind. The whole town
of Callao late so flourishing, filled with half the wealth of die
Indies, disappeared, being partly ingulphed, partly carried away
ilk explosion by minerals, bursting from the entrails of the earth.
Vast quantities of rich spoils, of furniture, and precious goods,
were afterwards taken up floating some leagues off at sea.

In the midst of this astonishing confusion, Mendoza was per-
haps the sole human creature unconcerned for himself. He be-
held the whole tremendous scene from the ship's deck, frighted
only for the destruction falling on his beloved Cornelia. He
saw, and mourned her fate as unavoidable, little rejoicing at
his own safety, since life was now become a burthen.

After the space of an hour this terrible hurricane ended; the
earth regained her stability, and the sky its calmness. He then
beholdeth, close by the stern of his ship, floating upon an olive*
tree, to a bough of which she clung, one in the dress of a fe-
male. He was touched with compassion, and ran to her relief;
he findeth her yet breathing*, and raising her up, how unspeaka-
ble was his astonishment, when he beheld in his arms, his be-
loved, his lamented Cornelia ! The manner of whose miracu-
lous deliverance is thus recorded.

In this universal wreck as it were of nature, in which the
elements of the earth and water had changed their places, fishes
were borne up into the mid-land ; trees, and houses, aiid men
into the dtep ; it happened, that this fair one was hurried
into the sea, together with the tree, to which in the bediming
of the commotion she had clung, anff was thrown up by the
side of that vessel, wherein her faithful Mendoza wa«f which
was one of the few that rode out the amazing tempest. I cac-
not paint to you the emotions of his rniad, the joy, the aoiffftv

452

, The Wonders of

rnent, the gratitude, the tenderness : — words cannot express
them.

Happy pair ! Tiie interposition of Providence in your favour
was too visible for any man to dispute your being at last united
for ever. And O thrice happy Mendoza, how wonderfully was
thy constancy crowned, and thy merit rewarded ! Lo, the wind
is fair ! Haste, bear with thee to thy native Spain this inestim-
able prize. Return, no less justly triumphant, than did formerly
the illustrious Cortes, loaded with the spoils of Montezuma, the
reasures of a newly discovered world.

THE GARDEN OF EDEN.

An inquiry into the situation of the Terrestrial Paradise.

[Meth. Mag.— Eng.]

The change made in the appearance of countries and the
course of rivers, by the violence of the deluge, cannot possibly
prove an obstacle to our discovering the genuine place of the
Terrestrial Paradise. Since it is not to be supposed that, Moses,
who wrote eight hundred and fifty years after the flood, would
have given us such a minute aud particular account of the gar-
den of Eden, if there had been no marks and indications of it
remaining. Besides, he does not in his account of Paradise,
make use of antediluvian names; for the appellation of the riv-
ers and countries adjacent, Cush, Havilah, and others, are of a
later date than the flood. So that it appears to have been the
intention of Moses to give us, according to the geography of
, his times, some account where the garden of Eden, or the Ter-
restrial Paradise was situated. Nor is it to be doubted, but it
may still be found by a careful attention to his description.

Some eminent modern writers, misled by the affinity of words,
have imagined that they found the names of Pison preserved
in thePasi Tigris; or rather (as they would have it to favour •
their hypothesis) the Piso Tigris ; while others take it for
granted, that it is the Ph^sis ; as they conclude the Aras to be
the Gihon, because both these terms are by the Persians used
to signify any #reat river. But, if such conjectures as these
are to be takeu for solid reasons, Eden may be discovered any
where, or every where ; since a conforinii \ of names, either
in sound or signification, may be found in all countries. And
if this childish method of proof be once admitted, unless un-
der proper restrictions, it would be no difficult matter to provfc.

JSiaturt and Providence.

that America was peopled by the immediate descendants of
Noah.

The words Bdolali, and Solium, in the Mosaic description of
Eden, which our translators have rendered Bdellium, and the
Onyx stone, afford us but small light, being names of particular
substances, as little known as Havilah, the land said to» produce
them. But that we may no longer grope in the dark, we shall
canvass the three different opinions, which -seem to deserve our
greatest attention.

Some authors of distinction place the Terrestrial Paradise
near Damascus in Syria : but this conjecture is entirely ground-
less ; since it is certain the garden of Eden lies to the Eastward
of t|ie place where Moses wrote his history, which was probably
Arabia Petrae ; whereas Syria *lies to the nortli of that, coun-
try; besides, as this scheme is destitute of all the marks of
the Mosaic description, it ought for that very reason to be re-
jected.

The second hypothesis places Eden in Arminia, between the
sources of the Tigris, the Euphrates, the Araxes, and the Plnf
sis ; but this account is equally inconsistent with the former ;
since, according to the latest discoveries, the Phasis does not
rise in the mountains of Arminia ; but derives its origin from
mount Caucasus, and flows from north to south; so that, ac-
cording to this scheme, we want a whole river, except, instead
of the Phasis, we substitute the Hur, which joins the Araxes
before it disembogues itself in the Caspian S;.a.

The third hypothesis, which appears the most consistent with
truth, places Eden on the united stream of the Tigris, and Eu-
phrates, called by the Arabs, Skat al A'rah, that is, the river of
the Arabs ; which begins a little above Basora ; and about five
miles below it divides again into two channels, which empty
themselves into the Persian gulph. According to this opinion
first advanced by Calvin, and afterwards, with some little vari-
ation, espoused by Morinus, Bochart and lined ; the Shat al
Arab is the river going out of Eden ; which, if considered ac-
cording to the disposition of its channel, and not the course of
its stream, divides into four different branches, and by that
means constitutes the four rivers mentioned by Moses, namely,
two below Basora, which are the Pison and the Gihon ; and
the two above it, which are the Euphrates and the Tigris; the
latter of which is by the modern Arabs called Digalt, and by the
most learned Geographers supposed to be the Hiddekel of Mo-
ses : so that the western branch of the Shat must be the Pison ;
and the adjacent part of Arabia, bordering on the Persian
gulph, Havilah : whereas the eastern branch must of course be
Gihon, which encompasses the country of Cush.

-f64

The Wonders of

This opinion seems exactly to coincide with the sacred text >
which informs us that " A river went out of Eden to water the
garden ; and from thence it was parted, and became into four
heads." These words evidently imply, th.it in Eden the river
had but me channel ; but when it was gone out of Eden, divi-*
ded itself into four, two upwards, and two downwards ; for,
supposing the Shat al Arab to be the common channel ; we way
by directing our view to Babylon, see the Tigris and Euphra-
tes running into it ; and by looking toward the Persian gulphf
observe the Pi son and Gihon flowing out of it.

This scheme, though incumbered with some minute geogra-
phical difficulties, is nevertheless of all the rest most consonant
to the description of the sacred historian. And what seems to
give it an additional force, is the surprising fertility of the adja-
cent country ; for, as it would be absurd to suppose, that God
should plant a garden in so barren a soil ; so all ancient histo-
rians inform us, that Mesopotamia and Chaldea were not only
blessed with uncommon fertility, but also adorned with the roost
enchanting rural beauties. Besides, though the accounts of the
ancients were not to be depended on ; yet modern travellers,
of the most untainted candour and veracity, assure us that in
all the spacious dominions of the Grand Seiguor, there is not a
finer and richer country, though in some parts uncultivated,
than that between Bagdat and Basora, the very tract of ground
which was anciently called the land of Eden.

If it should be asked, in what particular pait of Eden this
gardeu was situated ? Moses answers the question, by inform-
ing us that it was eastward in Eden. If then the Terrestrial
Paradise lay in the easterly part of this country ; and the river,
which watered it, ran through the said country, before it en-
tered the garden ; we must necessarily conclude, that the memo-
rable spot of ground, destined for the primitive scenes of love
and inuocence, was situated on the ca*t side of one of .he turn-
ings of the Shat al Arab. That is, the river formed by the
conjunction of the Tigris and Euphrates ; and probably at the
lowest great turning mentioned by Ptolemy, not far from the
place by modern geographers assigned to Arceca, in scripture
called Erce.

Though our maps do not make the river answer exactly the
description of Moses ; yet, as that author wrote according to
the best geography of his time ; if the course or number of
rivers about Babylon have since undergone great alterations,
they have probably been occasioned by the ducts and canals
made by order of the monarchs of that empire, of Alexander
1 *erGreat» and even of Trajan, and Severus, with a view either
of facilitating commerce, or to render the soil fruitful. But.

9 .Vuuute and Providence 45&

notwithstanding this disadvantage, we find wider variations in
the situations of other places, and are obliged to make greater
corrections in ancient charts and maps, than are necessary to
be made in the Mosaic description of Eden, to bring it to an
agreement with our latest accounts of the present country and
rivers about Chaldea. So the delightful garden, which was the
habitation of the first parents of mankind, was, no doubt, situ-
ated in the place we have here specified.

THE WORKS OF GOD DISPLAYED.

The possibility of the Prophet Jonas being in the belly of a fish —
accounted for upon philosophical principles,

[Meth. Mag. — Eng.]

Our Lord seems here plainly to refer to the history concern-'
ing Jonah, as to a real fact ; nevertheless this part of Scripture
bas by some been supposed to contain an account merely of a
prophetical vision. Nothing, however, can be more certain
than, that if we will calmly bestow a little due and candid at-
tention, the whole account may be shewn to contain nothing
but what was very possible, even consistently with the soundest
philosophy and experience. For in the first place, although it
be true, that a whale (properly so called, and accurately and
genetically described) has so small a gullet that it could not pos-
sibly swallow a man, yet we ought to consider the word ««r«$
does not necessarily mean a whale, as distinguished from other
large fishes, but that it properly means a large sea monster, and
that there are other fishes (the sharks amongst the rest) that are
very capable of swallowing a man whole, and have often done so.
There is amongst the rest, one very remarkable fish, described
as being taken even upon our own coasts, which ought to be
remembered on this occasion, and to be referred to, although
this in itself was not probably of the full size, and therefore
could not contain the body of a man, but others of its species
very well might. A print of it, and a curious description, by
that most ingenious and faithful philosopher, Mr. John Fergu-
son, may be seen in the Phil. Trans. Vol. 53, p. 170, from
whence even this small one appears to have been near five feet
in length, and of a great bulk, and to have been merely, as it were.
one vast bag, or great hollow tube, capable of containing the
body of any animal of si7*e that was but, in sotnesmail degree,
inferior to its own. And unquestionably, such a kind 'of fr<h.

<fib Woniert of

and of still larger dimensions, may consistently, even with the
most correct ideas of any natural historian, be supposed occa-
sionally to have appeared in the Mediterranean, as well as on
other coasts, where such a. one was actually caught, it having
come up so far into the Bristol channel and Kiug's road.

In the next place, that a man may continue in the water, or
some instances, without being drowned, is manifested by whit
is related by the author of the Physico-Theology, on the best
authority. For he tells us that he is inclined to conclude some
persons may have the foramen ovale of the heart remaining
open all their lives, although in the greater part of the human
species, it is closed very soon after their birth, and that such per-
sons as have the joramen ovale so left open, could neither be
hanged nor drowned, because when the lungs cease to play, the
blood will, nevertheless, continue to circulate, just as it does
in a foetus in the womb. And although Mr. Cbeselden doubted
of this fact, yet Mr. Cowper, the anatomist, says he often found
the foramen ovale open in adults, and gives some curious in-
stances of this kind. Mr. Derham, in one of bis notes, men-
tions several persons who were many hours and days under wa-
ter, and yet recovered ; and one who even retained the sense
of hearing hi that state. And Dr. Piatt (History of Stafford-
shire, p. 292,) mentions a most curious instance of a person
who survived and lived, after having been hanged at Oxford,
for the space of twenty hours before she was cut down. The
fact was notorious, and her pardon, reciting this circumstance, h
extant on record. And further, it is well known that what en-
ables some animals to bt amphibious, is this very circumstance
of having the foramen ovale of the heart open. See Ray on
the creation, p. 330.

Now, then, where is the absurdity in conceiving that Jonas
might have been a person of this kind, having the foramen ovale
of his heart continuing open from his birth to the end of bis days.
In which case, he could neither be drowned by being cast into
the sea, nor suffocated by being swallowed by the fish. Nei-
ther could he well be injured by the digesting fluid in the fish's
stomach, for it is a curious observation made by Mr. John Hun-
ter, that no animal substance can be digested by the digesting
fluid usually existing in animal stomachs, whilst life remains in
such animal substance. His words are (Phil. Trans. Vol. 62,
p. 449.

" Animal?, or parts of animals possessed of the living princi-
ple, wlien taken into the stomach, are not the least affected by
the powers of that visctis, so long as the animal principle re-
mains. Thence it i<, that we find animals of various kinds liv-
ing in the stonvurh. «->r even latched and bred there, but the mo

Nature and Providence.

45T

taient tbat any of these lose the living principle, they become
subject to the digestive powers of the stomach. If it were
possible for a man's hand, for example, to be introduced into
the stomach of a living animal, and kept there for some consid-
erable time, it would be found that the dissolvent powers of the
stomach could have no effect upon it ; but if the same hand were
separated from the body, we should then find that the stomach
would act immediately upon it.

" Indeed, if this were not the case, we should find that the
stomach itself ought to ha~'e been made of indigestible materi-
als : for if the living principle was not capable of preserving an-
imal substances from undergoing that process, the stomach it-
self would be digested.

" But we find, on the contrary, that the stomach, which, at
one instant, that is, while possessed of the living principle, was
capable of resisting the digestive powers which it contained,
the next moment, viz. when deprived of the living principle, is
itself capable of being digested either by the digestive powers
of other stomachs, or by the remains of that power which it
had of digesting other things."

Consistently with which observations of Mr. John Hunter,
we find that small fishes have been taken alive out of the stom-
achs of fishes of prey, and (not having been killed by any bite
or otherwise) have survived their being devoured, and have
swam away well recovered, and very little affected by the di-
gesting fluid.

Putting then all these circumstances together, there appears,
in the end, nothing unphilosophical or absurd, in supposing that
Jonas, or indeed any other man, having the foramen ovale of the
heart open, or such a construction of his frame as those men-
tioned by Derham had, might be cast into the sea, and be swal-
lowed up whole by a great iish, and yet be neither drowned,
nor bitten, nor corrupted, nor digested, nor killed ; and it will
easily follow, from the dictates of common sense, that in that
case the fish itself must either die, or be prompted by its feel-
ings to get rid of its load ; and this it might do, perhaps, more
readily near the shore, than in the midst of the waters, and in
thatcase, such person would certainly recover again by degi ees,
and escape.

I do not presume to say that this is, by any means, an exact
solution of what happened to the prophet Jonas, because there
must ever be acknowledged to have been a miraculous, divine
interposition on the whole, in causing the circumstances of the
' presence of the fish, of the formation of Jonas, and of the near-
ness to the shore, at the time of his being thrown up, to concur
rightly to effect his deliverance ; and how, much farther it

■58

458

„ The IVondtrs of

might extend, we neither can nor ought to presume to ascer-
tain.

But solely to show the fact to be philosophically possible,
even according to the experience we are permitted to be acquaint-
ed with, is sufficient to remove, and fully to answer, the objec-
# tions of seqffers, and is a sufficient ground for us to consider
our Lord's allusion to this narration, as being an allusion to u
«vent that really happened.

A MAN POSSESSED OF THE DEVIL,

An extract from the Rev. Mr. Easterbrook's account of Crtorgt
Luteins. Published under J. Wesley's patronage.

[Eng. Methodist Mag. vol. 12th, page 155*]

On Saturday May 31, 1788, Mrs. Sarah Barber called on ae
acquainting me that she had just returned from a visit to Yattoa,
in the county of Somerset, where she had found a poor nun
afflicted with an extraordinary malady. She said his name was
George Lukins ; that he had fits daily during her stay at Yafton,
in which he sang and screamed in various sounds, some of which
did not resemble a human voice; and .declared, doctors cooM
do him no service. Some time ago she resided at Yatton sev-
eral years together, well knew George Lukins and bis relations,
and was thoroughly acquainted with the opinion of the neigh-
bourhood concerning them : and could with confidence declare,
that he bore an extraordinary good character frr;;, i.isi ijiulhood,
and had co»—nntly attended the church ^ .d sacrament. Of her
own kn vie(t< ■ he said, that she coul ■; affirm, that he had beea
subject to fits of •. very uncommon o attire, for the last eighteen
years for thr ire of which he had been placed for a conside-
rable tiuir i.i.uer the care of Mr. Smith, an eminent surgeon of
Wriugton, who administered all the assistance in his power,
without effect : many other medical gentlemen she said had in
like manner tried to help him, but in vain. Many of the peo-
ple about Yatton conceived him to be bewitched ; but he himself
declared that he was possessed of seven devils, and that noth-
ing could avail but the united prayers of seven clergymen, who
could ask deliverence for him in faith. But seven could not be
procured in that neighbourhood to meet his ideas, and try the-
experiment : she therefore earnestly requested me to go to Yattou
to see him.

To this I an«wiwci\,\U*\\iY;wMltt a pleasure to me to com-

. JSuture and Providence. 460

ply with her wish, but the engagements I had in this city, pre-
cluded me that gratification ; notwithstanding which if she could
contrive to bring the man to Bristol, I would solicit some of
my friends to join me in supplication for him.

On Saturday the 7th day cf June, George Lukins came to
Mr. Wescote'p, in Redclift-street, where he was seen for some
days in his fits, by many who with one voice declared, that, they
were struck with horror and amazement, at the sounds and ex-
pressions which they heard, and the unaccountable agitations
and convulsions which they beheld.

In compliance with my promise to M(s. B. I applied to such
of the clergy of the established church-(within the circle of my
acquaintance) as I conceived to be most cordial in the belief of
supernatural influences, namely, to the Rev, Dr. Symes, Rector
of St. Werburgh's ; the Rev. Dr. Robins, precentor of the ca-
thedral ; and the Rev. Mr. Brown, rector of Portishead ; re-
questing that these gentlemen would attend a meeting for prayer
in behalf of this object of commiseration ; but though they ac-
knowledged it as their opinion, that his was a supernatural af-
fliction, 1 could not prevail upon t'.ieni to join with me in prayer
for him. Therefore as these gentlemen rejected my application,
there was no rational ground of hope for more success, with
those of my brethren, who were less disposed to admit the in-
flueoce of good and evil spirits. Yet being unwilling to dismiss
him from Bristol till some effort had been, made for his re-
covery, I next desired certain persons in connexion with the
Rev. Mr. Wesley, to attend a prayer-meeting on his account ;
to which request they readily acceded. Accordingly a rm* Vmg
was appointed on Friday morning the 13th of June, at eleven
o'clock. And as the most horrible noises usually proceeded
from him in his fits, it was suggested that the vestry-room of
Temple church, which is bounded by the church-yard, was the
most retired place that could be found in Temple parish ; and
for that reason that situation was preferred to any other, it be-
ing our design to conduct this business with as much secrecy
as possible. But our design in this respect was rendered abor-
tive; for on Wednesday evening the 11th of June, there was
published in the Bristol Gazette, the followiug letter :

To the Printer of the Bristol Gazette.

Sib,

When you can spare room in your Gazette, I think you wdl
Dot be able to present your readers with an account so extra-
ordinary as the following. It is the most singular case of ner-
verted reason and bodily suffering that 1 cvwWti*\wt

460

The Wonders of

have the most learned and ingenious persons been able to solve
the phenomenon, much less to administer relief to the afflicted
object. You may depend on the authenticity of every part of
the relation.

About eighteen years ago the unfortunate subject of this epis-
tle, going about the neighbourhood with other young fellows,
acting Christmas plays, suddenly fell down senseless, and was
with great difficulty recovered. When he came to himself, the
accouat he gave was, that he seemed at the moment of his fall
to have received a violent blow from the hand of some person,
who, as he thought, was allowed thus to punish him for acting
a part in the play. From that moment, he has been subject, at
different periods, to fits of a most singular nature. The first
symptom is a powerful agitation of the right hand, to which
succeed terrible distortions of the countenance. The influence
of the fit then commences. He declares in a roaring voice that
he is the devil, who with many horrid execrations summons about
him certain persons devoted to his will, and commands them .to
torture this unhappy patient with all the diabolical means in
their power. The supposed demon then directs his servants to
sing. Accordingly the patient sings in a different voice a jovial
hunting song which having received the approbation of the
foul fiendy is succeeded by a song in a female voice, very deli-
cately expressed ; and this is followed, at the particular injunc-
tion of the demon, by a pastoral song in the form of a dialogue,
sung by, and in the real character of, the patient himself. Af-
ter a pause and more violent distortions, he again personates
the demon, and sings in a hoarse, frightful voice another hunt-
ing song. But in all these songs, whenever any expression of
goodness, benevolence, or innocence, occurs in the original, h
is changed into another of its opposite meaning ; neither can
the patient bear to hear any good words whatever, during the
influence of his fit, but is exasperated by them into the most
shocking degrees of blasphemy. Neither can he speak any ex-
pressions of this tendency, whilst the weakness of his fits is upon
him ; but is driven to madness by their mention. Having per-
formed the songs, he continues to personate the demon, and de-
rides the attempts which the patient has been making to get out
of his power, saying, that he will torment him more and more
to the end of his life, and that all the efforts of parsons and
physicians shall prove fruitless. And inverted Te Deum is then
fiung in the alternate voices of a man and woman, who with
much profaneness thank the demon for having given them power
over the patient, which they will continue to exercise as Jong
as he lives. The demon then concludes the ceremony, by bark-
ing- fiercely, and interspeT&v&fc inm^ wKgCvm Vvv* own dia-

Nature and Providence,

4G1

bolical dignity. Then the fit subsides into the same strong
agitation of the hand that introduced it, and the patient reco-
vers, but utterly weakened and exhausted. At certain periods
of the fit, he is so violent, that an assistant is always obliged to
beat hand, to restrain him from committing some injury on
himself; though to the spectators he is perfectly harmless. He
understands all that is said and done during his fits, and will
* even reply sometimes to questions asked him. He is under the
\ influence of these paroxisms generally near an hour, during
which times his eyes are fast closed. Sometimes he fancies him-
self changed into the form of a brute, when he assumes all the
motions and sounds that are peculiar to it. From the execra-
tions he utters it may be presumed, that he is or was of an
abandoned character, but the reverse is the truth ; he was ever
of a remarkable innocent and inoffensive disposition. Every
method that variety of persons have suggested, have been ex-
erted without success ; and some years ago he was sent to St.
George's Hospital, where he remained about twenty weeks, and
was pronounced incurable. Of late, he has every day at least
three, and sometimes nine of these fits, which have reduced him
to great weakness ; for he cannot hear any virtuous or religious
expression used without much pain and horror. The emaciated
figure that he presents, the number of years that he has been
subject to this malady, and the prospect of want that lies before
him, through being thus disabled from following his business;
all preclude the suspicion of imposture.

This letter much attracted the notice of the citizens ; and it
having by some means or other been made known, contrary to
our desire, that a prayer meeting on Friday morning was held
in the vestry room of Temple church, for the man who was the
subject of that letter, a considerable number of the people plan-
ted themselves upon the wnlls of the vestry-room, and heard
part of the prayers, the singing, the conversation, and the won-
derful sounds which proceeded from Lukins, and carried some
account of these circumstances to a printer, who instantly dis-
patched papers upon the subject, through the streets of Bristol,
and its vicinage. Similar papers were shortly cried through
the streets of Bath, London, and many other parts of the land.
So that contrary to our design the affair was in this manner
brought before the public.

On Friday morning, June 13, the following persons, accom-
panied with George Lukins, met me at the vestry-room at Tem-
ple church, at eleven o'clock, to offer up petitions to the throne
of grace, viz :

The Hinders of

Mr. John Broadbent, Mr. J. Wescote.

Mr. John Valton, Mr. J. Lard,

Mr. Jeremiah Brettel, Mr. T. Delve,

Mr. Benjamin Rodes, Mr. Rees,

Mr. T. M'Geary. Mr. Devcrel,

Mr. William Hunt, Mr. Tucker,

Nathaniel Gifford, Esq. Mr. Gwycr.

In consequence of the papers which were published through
the greatest part of the kingdom, without our consent, many
strange falsehoods were propagated ; which being communi-
cated to some of our friends, they were induced, in order to
prevent the people from suffering impositions, hastily to put to-
gether the following true relation, of the occurrences of that
morning :

Some persons, acquainted with George Lukins had heard him
repeatedly say that lie was possessed with seven devils, and that
if seven ministers could he got to pray with hi in in faith, they
would be cast out. But this declaration being treated as a vi-
sionary matter^ he remained in his former state. HoAvever, a
person who felt much for his deplorable case had him brought
to Bristol last w eek, to sec if any thing could be done for him.

After he had been here a few days, and was seen by many
persons in his fits, several ministers were prevailed upon to
meet ou the occasion. They accordingly met in the vestry-
room of the Temple church, on Friday the 13th instant, at elev-
en o'clock in the forenoon, attended by the poor man, and sev-
eral other persons to assist in managing of him in his fits : and
the following is a relation of some of the particulars on the a-
bove awful occasion.

1 . They began singing a hymn, on which the man was imme-
diately thrown into strange agitations, his face was variously dis-
torted, and his whole body strongly convulsed. His right hand
and arm then began to shake with violence, and after some vio-
lent throes, he spake in a deep, hoarse, hollow voice, personat-
ing an invisible agent calling the man to an account, upbraid-
ing him as a fool for bringing that silly company together : said
it was to no purpose, and swore that he would never quit his
hold of him ; but would torment him a thousand times worse
for making this vain attempt.

2. He then began to sing in his usual manner, (still persona"
ting some invisible agent) horribly blasphemed, boasted of his
power, and vowed eternal vengeance on the miserable object,
and on those present for daring to oppose him ; and commanded
his " faithful and obedient servants" to appear, and take their
station.

Nature and Providence;

4btf

3. He then spake in a female voice, very expressive of scorn
an4 derision, and demanded to know why the fool had brought
such a company there? And swore " by the devil" that he would
not quit his hold of him, and bid defiance to, and cursed all,
who should attempt to rescue the miserable object from them.
He then sung, in the same female voice, a kind of love song, at
the conclusion of which he was violently tortured, and repeated
most horrible imprecations.

4. Another invisible agent came forth, assuming a different
voice, but his manner much the same as the preceding one. A
kind of dialogue was then sung in a hoarse and soft voice alter-
nately ; at the conclusion of which, as before, the man was
thrown into violent agonies, and blasphemed in a manner too
dreadful to be expressed.

5. He then said, " I am the great Devil and after much
boasting of his power, and bidding defiance to all his opposers,
sang a kind of hunting song ; at the conclusion of which he was
most violently tortured, so that it was with difficulty that two
strong men could hold him, (though he is but a small man, and
very weak in constitution ; sometimes he would set up a hide-
ous laugh, and at other times bark in a manner indescribably
horrid.

6. After this he summoned all the infernals to appear, and
drive the company away. And while the ministers were enga-
ged in fervent prayer, he sung a Te Deum to the devil, in diffe-
rent voices, saying, " We praise thee, O devil ; we acknowledge
thee to be the supreme governor. \

7. When the noise was so great as to obstruct the company
proceeding in prayer, they sang a hymn suitable to the occasion.
Whilst they were y, . i r, u.« o>i,- »vlnrh personated the "
great devil 1 * !e diem defiance, cursing ana vainer dreadful
vengeanc ■ .jn all present. One in the company commanded
him in tL name of the great Jehovah to declare his nam- To
which he r plied, " I am the devil." The same person ihen
charged him in t?u» name of Jehovah to decb.re w hy hi; torment-
ed the man ? To whicl* he made answer, u 'iliat I may shew
my power amongst men."

8. The poor man still ;emainii;g in great agonies, prayer was
continued for his dcliverence. A clergyman present desired
him to speak the name of " Jesus," and several times repeated
it to him, at all of which he repeated " devil." During this %
attempt a small faint voice was heard saying, " Why don't you
adjure ? On which the clergyman commanded, in the name of
the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, the evil spirit to de-
part from the man ; when a voice was heard to say, " Must I
irive up my power and this was followed by dreadful howlintrs.

404

The Wonders of

Soon after another voice, as with astonishment, said, " Our
master has deceived us." — The clergyman still continuing to
repeat the adjuration, a voice was heard to say, " Where shall
we go ?" and the reply was, " To hell, and return no more to
torment this man." On this the man's distortions were stronger
than ever ; attended with the most dreadful howling. But as
soon as this conflict was over, he said, in his own natural voice,
" Blessed Jesus !" — He then immediately praised God for his
deliverance, and kneeling down said the Lord's prayer, and re-
turned his thanks to all who were present:.

I am aware, that the above account of George Lukins, will
by many be doubted ; for this is the day of scepticism, concern-
ing such things. But wherefore ; surely it must arise from
ignorance of the subject. Does not the scriptures, and other
authentic history, of ancient as well as modern times, testify
that in all ages of time, there have been frequent familiarity be-
tween the inhabitants of this earth, and the invisible state, upon
errands of love or of malevolence. He who is altogether a
sceptic upon this subject, is not far from sitting in judgment
upon the bible itself, and condemning it as mere fable. The
mind cf man is ever at variance with the serious things of eter-
nity, unless it be under the healthful influence of the grace of
God : and therefore is prepared to contradict all such kind of
information, however well attested, because it has this voice in
it, prepare to meet thy God. There are some, undoubtedly,
who assent to a belief of such things, merely from the influence
of education, or superstition ; but such ground as that can never
afford the true philosopher any good reason, for he will require
an effect, to be consistent, with some consistent cause, and also
evidence of the fact. It is deemed consistent, from the relation
which the spirits of the earth have to those of the invisible Kate,
that they should have access, if permitted, to each other. The
relation which they bear to each other, is their intelligence, and
reasoning faculties, being all originated by the same creative
power; and may, therefore if permitted by the God of Provi-
dence, have communion with each other, either upon matters
of love to God, and each other ; or upon matters of hatred to
God, evinced by extreme wickedness : and by an inscrutable
Providence, may be permitted to afllict some of the sons of sor-
row, by mental derangement, others by the affliction of their
persons, others in their property, &c. Witness Job, whose pro-
perty Was destroyed of the devil ; and in the days of Christ,
the bodies of men and women were tormented of Satan ; and
in latter years, as in the person of George Lukins, as above re-
Uued. and many olhwrs accm&n^ \a l\v*iocv. The names re-

Nature and Providenci.

corded, as witnesses of the wonderful cure of this man, are too
well known in England, and in this country, and even in this
city of Albany, to be dented. It is testified of them, by per-
sons fearing God, and sustaining untarnished reputation among
the citizens of this commonwealth, that they were esteemed in
England holy men — men of usefulness in the Redeemer's cause
—divines, and preachers of the everlasting gospel, to their
lives' end. There is therefore no good reason to doubt the
foregoing account, seeing it is proved to be true, and believed
in the place where it transpired.

A SINGULAR PROV1DENSE.

The narrative of Oleander and Septimim.
[From a London Magazine.]

Athens, long after the decline of the Roman Empire, still
contihued the seat of learning, politeness and wisdom. Theo-
doric the Ostrogoth repaired the schools which barbarity was
suffering to fall into decay, and continued those pensions to men
of learning which avaricious governors had monopolized.

Id this city, and about this period, Alcauder and Septimius
were fellow-students together ; the one the most subtle reasoner
of all the Lyceum, the other the most eloquent speaker in the
Academic Grove. Mutual admiration soon begot friendship.
Their fortunes were nearly equal, and they were natives of the
two most celebrated cities in the world ; for Alcander was of
Athens, Septimius came from Rome.

In this state of harmony they lived for some time together :
when Alcander, after passing the first part of his youth in the
indolence of philosophy, thought at length of entering into the
busy world, and, as a step previous to this, placed his affections
on Hypatia, a lady of exquisite beauty,
i The day of their intended nuptials was fixed ; the previous
ceremonies were performed ; and nothing now remained but her
being conducted in triumph to the apartment of the intended
bridegroom.

Alcander's exultation in his own happiness, or being unable ,
to enjoy any satisfaction without making his friend Septimius
a partner, prevailed upon him to introduce Hypatia to his fel-
low-student ; which he did with all the gaity of a man who
found himself equally happy in friendship and love. But \Vvve>
was nn interview fatal to the future peace of h©\\\ ; fat ^\>^taw»

The Wonders of

no sooner saw her, hut he was smitten with an involuntary pas-
sion ; and, though he used every effort to suppress desires at
once so imprudent and unjust, the emotions of his mind in a
short time became so strong, that they brought on a fever, which
the physicians judged incurable.

During this illness, Alcander watched him with all the anxiety
of tenderness, and brought his mistress, to join in those amiable
offices of friendship. The sagacity of the physicians, by these
means, soon discovered that the cause of their patient's disorder
was love ; and Alcander being apprized of their discovery, at
length extorted a confession from the reluctant dying lover.

It would but delay the narrative to describe the conflict be-
tween love and friendship, it is enough to say, that the Atheni-
ans were at that time arrived at such refinement in morals, that
every virtue was carried to excess. In short, forgetful of his
own felicity, he gave up his intended bride in all her charms to
the young Roman. They were married privately by his conni-
vance, and this un looked for change of fortune wrought as un-
expected a change in the constitution of the now happy Septi-
mius : in a few days he was perfectly recovered, and set out with
his fair partner for Rome. Here, by an exertion of those tal-
ents which he was so eminently possessed of, Septimius, in a few
years arrived at the highest dignities of the state, and was con-
stituted the city judge or pra»tor.

In the mean time Alcander not only felt the pain of being
separated from his friend and mistress, but a prosecution was
also commenced against him by the relations of Hypatia, for
having basely given up his bride, as was suggested, for money.

His innocence of the crime laid to his charge, and even his
eloquence in his own defence, were notable to withstand the in-
fluence of a powerful party. He was cast, aud condemned to
pay an enormous fine. However, being unable to raise so large
a sum at the time appointed, his possessions were confiscated,
he himself was stripped of the habit of freedom, exposed ast
slave in the market-place, and sold to the highest bidder. A
merchant of Thrace becoming his purchaser, Alcauder, with
some other companions of distress, was carried into that region
of desolation and sterility. His stated employment was to fol-
low the herds of an imperious master, and his success in hunt-
ing was all that was allowed to supply his precarious subsis-
tence. Every morning awakened him to a renewal of famine
or toil, and every change of season served but to aggravate his
unsheltered distress. After some years of bondage, however,
an opportunity of escaping offered ; he embraced it with ar-
dour ; so that travelling by night, and lodging in caverns In
day, to shorten a \o\\£ siors, W wr\\«dui Rome..

Nature and Proviileivcz.

467

The same day on winch Alcander arrived, Septimius sat ad-
ministering justice in the lor urn, whither our wanderer came, ex-
pecting to be instantly known, and publicly acknowledged by
his former friend. Here he stood the whole day amongst the
croud, watching the eyes of the judge, and expecting to be tak-
en notice of: but he was so much altered by a long succession
of hardships, that he continued unnoticed among the rest; and,
in the evening when he was going up to the prtetor's chair, he
was brutally repulsed by the attending lictors. The attention of
the poor is generally driven from one ungrateful object to anoth-
er : for night coming on, he found himself under a necessity of
seeking a place to lie in, and yet knew not where to apply. —
All emaciated, and in rags as he was, none of the citizens would
tiarbour so much wretchedness, and sleeping in the streets might
be attended with interruption and danger: in short he was obli-
ged to take up his lodgings in one of the tombs, without the ci-
ty, the usual retreat of guilt, poverty, and despair, hi this man-
sion bf horror, laying his head upon an inverted urn, he forgot
-his miseries for awhile in- sleep; and found, on his flinty couch,
more ease than beds of down can supply to the guilty.

As he continued here, about midnight two robbers came to
make their retreat ; but happening to disagree about.the divis-
ion of their plunder, one of them stabbed the other to the heart,
and left him weltering in Ins blood at the entrance. In these
circumstances he was found the next morning dead at the mouth
of the vault. This naturally inducing a farther enquiry, an
alarm 'was spread; the cave examined; and Alcander being
found was immediately apprehended and accused of robbery,
and murder. The circumstances against him were strong, and
the wretchedness of his appearance confir med suspicion. Mis-
fortune and he were so lonir acquainted tint lie at hist became
regardless of life, lie detested a world where he h.id found
only ingratitude, falsehood and cruelty; he was determined to
make no defend ; and thus, lowering with resolution, he was
dragged, hound with cord*, before the tribunal of SeptimiiiM.
As the proofs were posithc against him, and he o fie red nothing
in his own vindication, the judge was proceeding to doom him
to a most cruel and ignominious death, when the attention of
the multitude was soon divided by another object, the robber
•who had been really guilty, was appicheuded selling his plun-
der, and struck with a p »»;ie, had confessed his crime. He
was brought bone/1 to tiie sari ? tribunal, and acquittvd every
other person of any partnership in his guilt. Alcander's inno-
cence therefore appeared, but the sullen rashness of his conduct
remained a wonder to the surrounding multitude ; but their as-
tonishment was still farther encrease<\, w\iexi v\\ev stok \Wvc \v\^\l*.

The Wonders of

start from his tribunal to embrace the supposed criminal : Sep-
timius recollected his friend and former benefactor, and bang
upon his neck with tears of pity and of joy. Need the sequel
be related ? Meander was acquitted : shared the friendship and
honours of the principal citizens of Rome ; lived afterwards in
happiness and ease ; and left it to be engraved on his tomb, That
no circumstances are so desperate, which Providence may not
relieve.

THE BOHON-UPAS. A POISON-TREE.

A Description of the Poison-Tree, in the island of Java, and

its effects.

[Arminian Mag. London.]

This tree is called, in the Malayan language, Bohon-Upas*
In 1774, 1 was stationed at Batavia, as a Surgeon in the service
of the Dutch East-India Company. During my residence
there I received several different accounts of the Bohon-Upas,
and the violent effects of its poison. They seemed incredible
to me* but I resolved to investigate this subject thoroughly, and
to trust only to my own observations. In consequence of this
resolution, 1 applied to the Governor-General, for a pass to
travel through the country. I had also procured a recommen-
dation from an old Malayan Priest to another Priest who lives
on the nearest inhabitable spot to the tree.

The Bohon-Upas is situated in the Island of Java, about
twenty-seven leagues from Batavia, fourteen from Soura Charta,
the seat of the Emperor. It is surrounded on all sides by high
mountains, and the country round it, to the distance of ten or
twelve miles from the tree, is entirely barren. Not a tree, not.
a shrub, nor the least plant or grass is to be seen. I have made
the tour all around, at about eighteen miles distant from the
centre, and I found the aspect of the country on all sides, equal-
ly dreary. The easiest assent of the hills is from that part
where the old ecclesiastic dwells. From this house criminals
are sent for the poison, into which the points of all warlike in-
struments are dipped. -,V *

This is a gum that issues out between the bark and the tree it-
self, like the Camphor. Malefactors, who for their crimes are
sentenced to die, are the only persons who fetch the poison ;
and this is the only chance they have of saving their lives. Af-
tes sentence is pronounced wpotv\^u\^ ^ Wug^ are

Nature and Providence.

469

ked in court, whether they will die by the hands of the exc- -
tioner, or go to the Upas-tree for a box of poison. They
tnmonly prefer the latter, as there is not only some chance
preserving their lives, but also a certainty, in case of their
fe return, that a provision will be made for them by the em-
ror. They are then provided with a box, in which they are
put the poisonous gum, and are instructed how to proceed,
mong other particulars, they are always told to attend the
nds : and to go towards the tree before the wind, so that the
luvia from the tree may be blown from them. They are told,
Lewise, to travel with the utmost despatch. They are after-
irds sent to the house of the old priest. Here they generally
main some days, in expectation of a favourable breeze. Dur-
5 that time, he prepares them for their future fate.
When the hour of their departure arrives, he puts on them a
ng leather cap, with two glasses before their eyes, which
mes down as far as their breast, and also provides them with
pair of leather gloves. They are then conducted about two
iles on their journey. Here the priest repeats his instructions,
d shows them a hill, which they are told to ascend, and that
i the other side they will find a rivulet, which they are to fol-
w, and which will conduct them directly to the Upas. They
ke leave of each other and hasten away.
The Ecclesiastic has assured me, that during his re^^Bbe
ere, for upwards of thirty yers, he had dismissed aboveleven
mdred criminals, and that scarcely two out of twenty have
turned. All the Malayans consider this tree as an holy in-
•ument of the great prophet, to punish the sins of mankind,
id, therefore, to die of the poison of the Upas, is generally
nsidered as an honourable death.

This, however, is certain, that for some space round this tree,
>t only no human creature can exist, but that, in that space of
ound, no living animal of any kind has ever been discovered,
lave also been assured, that there are no fish in the waters,
>r has any rat, mouse, or other vermin been seen there ; and
len any birds fly so near this tree that the effluvia reaches
em, they fall a sacrifice to the effects of the poison.

In the year 1776, in the month of February, I was present
the execution of thirteen of the Emperor's concubines, at
wra-charta, who were convicted of infidelity to the Empe~
r's bed. It was in the forenoon, about eleven o'clock, when
e fair criminals were led into an open space, within the walls

the Emperor's palace. There the judge passed sentence
►on tlu? m, by which they were doomed to suffer death by a
icet poisoned with Upas.

The executioner proceeded on his business in W^wvo^

470

The Wonders of

manner. Thirteen posts, each about five feet high, had been
previously erected. To these the delinquents were fastened
and their 'breasts stripped naked. In this situation tney remain-
ed a short time in prayer, attended by several priests, until t
signal was given by the judge to the executioner ; on which
the latter produced an instrument, much like the spring lancet
used by farriers for bleeding horses. With this instrument, poi-
soned with the gum of the Upas, the unhappy wretches were
lanced in the middle of their breasts, and the operation was per-
formed upon them all in less than two minutes.

My astonishment was raised to die highest degree, when I
beheld the, sudden effects of that poison ; for in about five min-
utes after they were lanced, they were taken with a tremor, at-
tended with subsultus tendinum, after which they died in the
greatest agonies. In sixteen minutes all the criminals were do
more. Some hours after their death I observed their bodies
full of livid spots, their faces swelled, their colour changed to a
kind of blue.

These circumstances made me desirous to try an ex peri mem
with some animals, in order to be convinced of the real effects
of this poison ; and as 1 had then two young puppies, 1 thought
them the fittest objects for my purpose. 1 accordingly procured,
with great difficulty, some grains of Upas. 1 dissolved half a
graflHr it in a small quantity of arrack, and dipped a lancet
inW^F With this 1 made an incision in the lower muscular part
of the belly of one of the puppies. Three minutes after it re-
reived the wound the animal began to cry out most piteously,
and ran as fast as possible from one corner of the room to the
other. So it continued during six minutes, when all its strength
being exhausted, it fell upon l!ie ground, was taken with convul-
sions, and died in the eleventh minute. I repeated this expe-
riment on two other puppies, uith a cat, and a fowl, and found
the operation of the poison in all of them the same : none of these
animals survived above thirteen minutes.

I thought it necessary to try also the effect of the poison giv-
en inwardly, which I did in the following maimer. 1 dissolved
a quarter of a grain of the gum in half an ounce of arrack, and
made a dog of seven months old drink it. In seven minutes a
-retching ensued, and I observed, at the same time, that the an-
imal was delirious, as it ran up and down the room, fell on the
ground, and tumbled about ; then it rose again, cried out very
loud, and in about half an hour after was seized with convul-
sions and died.

From these experiments I have been convinced, that the gum
of the Upas is the most dangerous and most violent of all ve-
getable poisons ; anA I am wp\ voWVwn? vW \v greatly contri-

Nature and Providence.

471

flutes to the unhealthiuess of that Island. Nor is this the only
, evil attending it : hundreds of the natives of Java, as well as

^Europeans, are yearly destroyed and treacherously murdered
' by that poison, either internally or externally. Every man of

quality or fashion has his dagger or other arms poisoned with it ;

and in times of war the Malayans poison the springs and other

waters with it ; by this treacherous practice the Dutch suffered

greatly during the last war, as it occasioned the loss of half

their army.

THE FOUNTAIN TREE.

The following is an account of the Fountain Tree, as. relajted by
six mariners, who journeyed over land from the Gulph of Hon-
duras, to the Cheat South Sea. — London Magazine.

Vera Paz is a passage between the mountains, about twenty
feet broad, very rocky, and full of great stones : one served us
to sit on all night, and at day-break we proceeded on our jour-
ney, but could hardly discern the day ; for the mountains are so
very high, and bend so to one another at the top, that we could
never see the skies, but were forced to carry brands of firf jn our
hands : which afforded but a very gloomy light in this place.
Such was the yelling and roaring of wild beasts out of this cav-
ity : such the horror and gloom of the place we were in ; nay,
and such even the sight of each other, by the uncertain light ii:
our hands, that well might we say, as we often didj Now are we
in the regions of darkness indeed. Every thing that presented
itself to us here was, in reality, very terrible; nor was there a
drop of water to be had ; so that we were almost dying with
thirst. Our feet also were so cut and cored, that it was with
extreme pain we uuderwent that uncouth walk which continued
twenty leagues. We were three days and three nights (which
were all one here,) before we got through, having had little
or no respite all thatt'me.

On the morning of the fourth day, we came out on a large
plain, where were great numbers of fine deer ; and in the mid-
dle stood a tree of unusual size, spreading its branches over a
vast compass of ground. Curiosity led us up to it. We had
perceived, at some distance off, the ground about it to be wet,
at which we began to be somewhat surprised, well knowing no
rain had fallen for near six months past, according to the cer-
tain course of the season in that latitude ; and that it was im-
possible to he occasioned by die fall of the i\e.w v»\\ v\v> vcv^w

Nature and Prouidtme.

473

city of New-Orleans. This lake communicates with the gulf
of Mexico, and by lake Maurepas and Ibberville river it com-
municates with the Mississippi ; it is fifty miles, in length and
thirty in breadth. The bayau is about eight miles, from its
head to the lake, very narrow aud crooked ; the motion of its
water is very slow, meandering through a low, swampy marsh,
inhabited only by alligators aud reptiles.

In the summer season nothing could equal the nauseous and
disagreeable smells that proceed from these stagnated waters,
which breed innumerable legions of musquetocs, fdling the air
with their music, and sparing no pains in visiting strangers, and
bestowing their attentions upon the whole auimal creation. — .
» As the evening approaches, the air is darkened with clouds of
them, arising from the marshes aud lakes. The inhabitants,
for the preservation of their blood and the safety of their lives,
sleep under a netting stretched over their beds, suffering rather
with suffocation than to be devoured alive.

I hired a negro, who being free soon, offered his services on
reasonable terms. Having a boat of my own construction now
completed, which was small, merely for the purpose of a tempo-
rary use. I spent several weeks in making preparations, and
constructed a cover over the stem of my boat, that I could take
down at pleasure. Besides this I prepared myself with oil,
skins, and a provision chest : 1 also purchased a number of
articles fancied by the Indians, as well as drawing instruments,
and paint brushes and colours, having with my uncle in London
acquired the art of miniature painting, I had a good brace of
pistols, but not thinking them sufficient, I purchased a rifle and
tomahawk. I likewise procured a prospective glass, compass,
thermometer, fcc.

Thus equipped, with a stout, rugged negro, I left Natches
on the 5th Oct. 1809, bound for new discoveries. Natches lies
31° north lat. Various were the opinions of the inhabitants
with respect to my appearance at my departure, and where I
was destined ; but all their enquiries were in vain. My boat
was light, and I soon lost sight of Natches.

The weather being extremely warm, my awning of canvass
was spread, which afforded a goodly shade, without which the
heat would have been intolerable. On the 6th the thermome-
ter stood at 98° at ten o'clock in the morning. There was not
the smallest breeze stirring, which is something uncommon, and
what I considered as a forerunner of convulsive winds and rain.
I never before felt he.it so intolerable. The pitch ran in every
direction on my little boat. It continued so till three o'clock,
when the heavens were clouded with darkness until it was re-
lieved bv hcavv rain and hail, accompanied with such tremen-

474

The Wonders of

dous shocks of thunder that in a little time the stores of nature
seemed exhausted, and a cooling breeze succeeded. Thw was
the first trial I had of my oil-cloths, which kept me perfectly
drv, as well as my apparatus.

My negro seemed to be delighted with having an opportunity
of displaying his tnterprizing disposition, and in the thickest
of the storm would use every exertion ; and when the rain de-
scended, not in drops or streams, but in entire sheets, lie would
with seeming pleasure cry out, Ah, massa. dis be notten what
we see yet. After the storm had subsided I set him to bailing
out the boat: 1 then informed him of the dangers to which we
should in all probability be exposed from the elements, as well
' us from the wilds of the country, and that the length of our tour
was uncertain. 1 likewise told him of the object of my pursuit,
adding if he would be faithful to me he should reap a sbare of
any profit that might accrue from the undertaking. He con-
sented to every proposal, and 1 now had an African born negro
for my companion. He was six feet two inches high, and would
weigh 260 pounds.

On the 7th, at night, we reached the mouth .of Red river.—
We came too after entering, and encamped for the night, having
made a small fire and smoke, in order to sleep more securely
from musquetoes. After we had taken a little supper, I sat
clown, meditating on my plans. My distracted brain filled me
with such impatience ihnt I thought every moment an honr.—
The .fatigue of the day had wearied us both ; but I qbserved
Edom busied in some reflection, and with a very thoughtful air.
A kind cf melancholy ensued as he turned his eyes towards tbe
dying colours of the west. I watched him for some time, and
at length asked him if he wished he was at Natches. He firmly
replied, No: but, says he, I was just thinking of my tired life,
and the trouble I had seen. I then requested him to relate the
account. He took his seat near me, and began as follows :

" I was brought to this country about twenty years ago. by
the Portuguese, who sold me to a very ugly man on the islam!
of Jamaica. By that master. I was shamefully abused for two
years, for being, as he called me, dumb ; I could not under-
stand what he said, and could not for some time handle the tools
belonging to the plantation $ 1 was whipped almost every day,
and was sinking under a pressure of trouble too great for me
to bear, when a kind provident e interceded, and I w as for a
short time at ease, by being confined on board a ship ; but I
was sorely pinched with hunger, and knew not my destiny. —
Having been torn from a loving wife who I had lately manied.
and crammed with several of my companions slaves in the hold
of the ship, and tWtc ftwftrtrtLui^ v;\\\\ wuueer, and an-

4

Nature and Providence.

475

,nish ? — but as I said before, 1 was again sold and went on
loard a ship ; I had done nothing, but runaway from my mas-
er, and crone to work for another man ; this so enraged him
hat he tied me, down to the ladder and gave me seventy lashes,
'hich was near being my end. Finding I was not now able to
rork he sold me. I was then taken to St. Domingo, and was
lade to work with a great chain to my feet, which galled me
9rely. My new master was, if possible, worse than the other,
one day was very sick, and was scarcely able to move, though
had much more to do for I had my chain to carry, as well as
> roll a wheel-barrow with stone, as we were building a fort.
ly sickness continued a few days, when I sunk down on the
round with acute pains in every part of my body, such as I
ad never experienced before. I had not lain in this jposture
Mig before my pains were increased by the tormenting whip of
:>e overseer, who *aid as he gave me sixty lashes, that lie would
mch me to be stubborn. Jfly back was quite raw : I could not
ise from the ground when t was told, but lay still ; at which he
egan to kick me with violence in the face and sides, which
hmi deprived me of my senses. How long I lay there I am
ot able to tell, but on my recovery, I found myself in a dark
ellar ; I gave free vent to my anguish, and prayed to be out
f existence. The next day there was brought three more who
ere whipped, and the blood running in streams from their
icks. After the master had left the cell, my poor companions
iformed me that they were 10 receive thirty more lashes in the
turning, and for no other crime than that of having been
deep : they also informed me of their hearing the master say
was to receive fifty. This news did not shock mo}* doping it
light put me to an end ; I rc ■■lived, however, that I Would not
ie alone. In the morning one of my companions was taken
Lit and whipped. His cry awakened me from melancholy to
igcr. Aftrr whipping him they sent him to work, and took
nt the two remaining prisoners, leaving me for the last. I
as now resohed on death or victory. While they were exc-
iting this horrid deed on my companions, I with some exertions
ot off my chain, and hunting about the cellar, 1 found a broken
>ade. I placed myself at the door, and heard curses thrcat-
led against me. When the overseer entered I had new strength,
id made a blow with the edge of my spade, and soon brought
im down ; I repeated my blows, and had the pleasure of seeing
is brains. Diiriug this time he had cried for help, and now
imc down two or three others, one of which I knocked down ;
ic others seized rne, and bound me with iron bands. I was
>\v in hopes of immediate death ; but 1 had other scenes to
icounter. Thinking it would be losing too rciwcYv wswj \»

The HoiuLn *//'

kill me, they shipped ine on board n vessel. Tlio captain seem- J
ed to use me with more mercy ; lie helped to release me frora^J
my fetters. We had a good passage to New-Orleans, where H
was sold to a sugar-plautcr. The cruelties here, exceeded all>i
I had ever before experienced, and if 1 should explain every ]
particular, it would cause a hatred to all people of your colour,
though I have since found amongst them the exercise of the true
principles of virtue and charity. I shall only say, that 1 could
not endure it ; I therefore set out, I knew not whither, but made
shift to travel by night till I got to Naichcs. A worthy gentle-
man there took compassion on my distressed situation. Know-
ing from my account I had ran away, he advertised me in the
papers, and my master soon appeared. I could see determined
fury in his countenance. I fell on my knees before my new
master, begging him to relieve me from my impending ruin, and
to my great joy 1 found they were making a bargain ; 1 soon saw
the demon depart, and was in a world of happiness. I served
my good master with care. He kept me to the boating business
for several years, lie then called me to his house for his fa-
vourite servant. Soon after he was taken ill, to my great mor-
tification, and died. In his will he left me about five hundred
dollars, and my freedom. This money was soon swindled from
me, and I hired with a gentleman for one year, when I came
across you, and I hope >ou will be a good master, and I will
be a good negro. I don't fear any thing if I can please my new
master."

Morning appeared, and we again set forth on our journey.
This river had a gentle current : the water is of a reddish colour,
from which it derived its name ; this colour is caused from a red
clay on the banks. The mouth of the river is in latitude 29°
50' north. There are a few settlements at the mouth, where
they raise cotton and iudigo. We had some wiud this day, to
which we set our little sail, and ran about ten miles. My negro
was well acquainted with the boating business, and he worked
up the little boat with astonishing alacrity. The weather still
continued warm, and we had frequent showers of rain, which
watered the thirsty plains and afTorded new life to the animal
and vegetable creation.

A few days brought us to a nation of Indians, called the Ca-
does, who inhabit a fine tract of country lying on the north side
of the Red river. A creek emptying into this river I pursued
till I found it to be settled with wigwams and Indian huts. Dur-
ing my stay among them I was well treated. The Chief in-
formed me that their forefathers sprang from a race of people
towards the setting sun, and that thev had bv wars been reduc-
ed to about fifteen hu\tdre.i\.

Nature and Providence.

477

These Indians are of small stature in comparison with the
other tribes east of the Mississippi : they livey principally by
> fishing and hunting deer, which are in great abundance. They
have had the Gospel amongst them, as well as a teacher of the
English language ; but their labour was met with coolness. —
Many of them speak the Spanish language, by which means I
received information respecting the neighbouring tribes.

I was treated with great politeness by the chief warrior, who
was about sixty years of age, and of large stature. He shew-
ed me his armour, which was worn by his great-grandfather,
who never saw a white man. His grandfather, he informed
me, had had many conflicts with the Spaniard?, as well as his
own father ; but they had now given up j-11 idea of combating
so powerful a nation as the whites. He believed the Great
Spirit would yet restore them all their lands, and banish the ag-
gressors.

This little tribe are very filthy in their way of living, only
washing themselves on particular days, as a kind of ordinance.
They seem not to have that jealous disposition with regard to
their wives which other tribes have.

They informed me of a number of tribes that lived towards
the setting sun ; that some of them were very numerous, and
disliked the white men. They also told me that precious me-
tals and stones were found amongst them, but they were jealous ■
of their rights and would not suffer any search from strangers,
and that they held correspondence with no one except some
particular Spaniards, who, by intrigue, had pried into their se-
crecy, and by insinuating little presents had received from them
much wealth.

My boat and apparatus excited much wonder. Some few of
these Indians raise corn, which they pound and boil. They in-
formed me that they should in a few days have a grand hunting
party, and invited me to stay ; but as 1 had now wasted much
time, I concluded to proceed.

These nations inhabit'a fine tract of country, beautiful eleva-
vations, and delightful vallies glowing with wild verdure. Such
a country ought to be fostered by an industrious hand, and not
left in waste by indolence and sloth.

Oct. 30. We were escorted out of this bayou into the river,
by the chief warrior, in a canoe rowed by four men. He wore
his hair in three cies behind encompassed by silver bands, and
a ring in his nose of nine inches in circumference, handed down
from his great grandfather. He had an open-countenance which
bespoke his bravery, and his deportment was complete.

We again began to ascend the Red river. It is here about
two or three hundred yards wide, au&tVve w^teTYraA Vrec-w&fc.

47t>

Tilt: llomitr* of

clearer, the- hanks more elevated, and we had «i strong xrurreut
to contend with, for several days together. We now passed e\-
tensive prairio, and in many places the eje found no relief, un-
til it would meet iuzid at a distance. These plains afford a rich
pasture to the deer and bufi'alo, which may be seen in droves ;
still they are very wild.

On the (Hh Nov. I kli'ei! some deer. Having a mind to take
a little view of the country, 1 concluded to leave Edom with
my boat ; accordingly I Uvk my gun and .some ammunition,
and set out on one of the prairhs. I travelled a considerable
distance, without meeting any thing worthy of note. At length
corning to a little spot of low ground, 1 discovered a beaten
path to extend quite round it, and lej-.d oil* iir a certain direction;
I followed for three or four miles, where it forked; I kept the
main path. I soon lornd the wumU and grass were getting
high ; stiil in hopes of di louringjny game, I continued this
way for some miles, fearing nothing hut snakes, which would
often dart acrox my path. The weeds had now become as
high a? my head, when 1 found fre>h signs of game, and undis-
covered I crMw led within twenty paces of several deer, feeding
like sheep 1 singled out one that was nearest, and took delibe-
rate aim, when my gun gapped ; they instantly threw up their
heads. ] again cocked, aiu!ju>ta:< ihey were making off, I
brought one down. It now seemed as if Uedlam bad broke
loose. Herds of dorr and builaloe were running in every direc-
tion, leaping to ti e top of tin? weeds to discover from whence
the alarm proceeded, and discovering the smoke of my gun,
dart<-'d off with -uch suifisie-s that they were instantly out of
sight. I approached the one 1 had shot, which lay in the ago-
nies of dentil, and reared it-elf fi,r an attack, but was loo weak.
1 cut its throtth and tor k oil" its shin, and the best of the Host that
I could coii\eui< ntlv carry, and starred for my boat. 1 reached
it about sun-set. We then prepared a fire, and cooked our
venison, which was very excellent.

This night 1 wn; a little alarmed at a circumstance that oc-
curred : Our fire w:;* e tineuishid, and we lay very composed-
ly ; but were awakened h\ta low voice. I raised up my head
cautiously, and found there were a few Indians in a canoe, coin-
ing close alone; side ofn.y boat. Then did not discover us, as
we lay on the <hore. 1 di manded who was there, and was an-
swered in Spanish. I invited them on shore, and they soon
complied with icy n oue.-t. Tin \ belonged to the tribe we had
passed ;t frw day before. After informing them that wc had
been in their nation, ihey treated us with respect. They told
u* the\ Ijad \)tiU -xi\v, da\ s journey up the river, to visit some
nf tiwir friends amongn ;\wov\\ct vc\W. — Vve«cd the re-

Nature and Providence.

470

port of my gun, being not more than half a mile from the river
where they were — that the river took a great turn, running a
south course for some distance. They agreed to remain with
me till morning, and made me up a fire. 1 was much pleased
with their company. One of them had an instrument of music
of simple construction, in the form of a flute, excepting that ho
Mowed in the end ; it was about two ftet long, and their tunes
were very striking, anil carried along with them such a natural
air, accompanied by their voices, that my ucirro fell a dancing,
which much diverted the Indiiius.

These friendly Indians wished to trade for some of my am-
munition, offering me a number of otter and beaver skins ; hav-
ing no use for them on my tour, 1 refused to take any, but pre-
sented them with some powder and lead, for which 1 was ten
thousand times thanked, and also in return received some roots
of different kinds, to make use of in time of sickness, explain-
ing their virtue ; one in particular for the bite of a snake, de-
scribing the leaf, that I might at any time be able to procure it.

November 15. We found ourselves in a kind of bay, form-
ed by the junction of three rivers, namely, the Willput on the
right, the Kindas on the left, and above these a creek ; all of
these falling together into the Red river, formed a kind of bav
nearly three quarters of a mile wide. A little above this, on
the left shore, we saw a cleanup, which attracted my attention.
We came too, and after ascending a few hundred yards 1 came
to a steep ascent : on the summit, I found it had the resem-
blance of an ancient fortress. Though there were a few scat-
tering trees of immense size, yet it bore marks of having been
once inhabited. The form was an oblong square, with a kind
of broken breastwork that would scarcely be noticed without
particularly examining it. In the rear of this was a kind of
hollow path covered over with shrubs, leading to a beautiful
spring, which I found to be artificially stoned. Every thing
appeared ancient. 1 took particular <:b>'.-rvution of the place
and proceeded.

Continuing our course, on the 20ih Nov. the clustered sum-
mits began to appear, and looked over us with astonishing mag-
nificence. The river is here for miles compressed within nar-
rower bounds than ordinary, ami runs with greater rapidity. —
Being broken with rock, the passage is in many places rough
and dangerous. About the middle of these towering precipices
is the noted cavern called the Spaniards Ttahlesod, which my
curiosity induced me to visit. We came up with it on t!:c 22d9
about twelve o'clock. Tin* river being then in a hip;h stage of
water, deterred me at first from entering as the mouth was
tnatcd near the margin of the river. l\o\vr\nr v\\^ \\w*w>\> \\<cSxv?l

The Wonders of

spacious, with all ease admitted us to row in for several yank
where the bows struck a rock and our passage was impeded.—
I stepped forward and found a few feet of perpendicular ascent
perfectly dry. I was now determined to see the recesses of this
cave ; accordingly I backed out, and after taking a little din-
ner, (during which time Edom procured some torch-wood,) I
entered, but not without some caution. I stepped up from the
boat on the ascent, and gave Edom his orders to stand there in
readiness if I should be in want of him. Upon entering I found
several inscriptions carved on the wall at the entrance, some da-
ted as far back as 1384. Astonishing as this may .appear, they
were perfectly plain, though partly covered over with a little
moss. There were also curious images ; one amongst the rest
was that of an Indian and white man shaking hands together ;
near which was the resemblance of a canoe in a sinking condi-
tion, and a white man swimming towards the shore : also the re-
semblance of a man's hand pointing into the gloomy recesses of
the cavern. On proceeding a little farther the passage became nar-
row and contracted, winding « little to the left. A few yards
more brought me into a magnificent hall of at least fifty feet in
circumference, in the centre of which, horrible to my view. 1
saw a vast number of human bones. A kind of gloomy but
hummed along the passage. I stood fixed to the spot in amaze
ment. (I own my timidity on such an occasion.) Proceed-
ing a little farther, my passage was stopped by the falling of wa-
ter, which nearly extinguished my torch. I retreated from this
awful spectacle, and could form but a faint idea of its meaning.
I returned to the mouth with heartfelt satisfaction, and proceeded
on my way up the river, meditating on what I had discovered.—
1st, I was astonished at the date, which could not have been done
by an Indian. 2d, This date being placed immediately under
the figure of the white man and Indian, both must have beeu
done at the same time, and with the same instrument. 3d, Thf
bones could not have remained for that length of time, but would
have*lecayed into dust ; those I supposed to have been deposit-
ed there some time after the carving was executed.

At the beginning of December the journey was becoming
very irksome, and was rendered more so by constant rains and
the rapidity of the current : however, to the head of the river
I must go. About the 15th of December 1 arrived amongst a
nation of Indians called the Uames. At the first interview I
was received with coldness and jenlousy. I had now to walk
discreetly in every undertaking. My negro was no less suspi-
cious than myself. A small village situated on the south shore
was the port at which I stopped. " The shores were soon full of
inhabitant*, several of wVuvnt co\M Squish lancmncr.

Mature anil Providence.

Leaving Edoin with the boat, I repaired to the chief, who was
about seventy years old : he spoke the Spanish language, and
made much inquiry with respect to my business in his nation,
I replied that 1 had no other view than that of seeing the coun-
try. He told me immediately of the strength of his warriors.
However, after a farther interview he used me with civility, I
had remained in his habitation till about dusk, when I was sur-
prised at hearing a tumultuous* noise at the river. Supposing
Edoni co be in some difficulty, I hastened down, and found him
contending with an Indian about some liquor. Having been
asked by the Indian for some whiskey, he refused him, telling
him he had none ; but soon after he took the liberty in my ab-
sence to make free use of it himself, which he had never done
before. The Indian, discovering him pouring some out, step-
ped into the boat, and was about to help himself, when he was
strenuously prohibited by Edom. A scuffle ensued, which
might have proved alarming had I not been near. This trivial
affair could be settled in no other way than by giving each of
them a small taste of brandy, which I did with reluctance, not
for the value of the liquor, but the effects it might have on their
dispositions.

I gave a few trifling articles to the chief, who was -highly
pleased with them. They were a few of my paintings, repre-
senting birds, horses, Indians, he. After this he invited me to
spend the night with him, assuring me there was no danger of
any further interruption with my property in the boat : many
of the most valuable articles I had taken out and kept con-
cealed.

This is a very subtle and intrepid tribe, well built, rather
large, and of an unusually dark complexion. The men have no
other dress than that of a strip of cloth just large enough to cover
their waists, and a pair of mockasons made of deer-skin. The
women wear a blanket or skin thrown loosely around them.-*—
Like all other tribes they expose their infants- to the elements,
and inure them to hardships, thus renderiug their constitutions
adequate to the different scenes of their life. Soon after the
child is born they plunge it into water, in order to prepare it in
time for that element : they carry it naked qn their back, with
the head down, exposing it to the scorching beams of the sun ;
and thus used on its entering the world, it becomes hardy, ro-
bust and dauntless. When a few months old they slit their
ears and put in leaden weights, which, in length of time, givfe
them a singular appearance, having a part of their ears hanging
quite down to their shoulders.

They are very strict in the execution of their laws, and never
grant a reprieve. If a woman commits adu\ler>| v**>

482

The Wonders of

last fingers cut off; the man but bis little finger ; then they are
banished from society, the husband not marrying in two yean
after. The laws are all appointed by the three chiefs belong-
ing to the tribe.

The towns, or camps, are supported by hunting parties, who
are very expert in killing their game, having no other weapon ,
than that of a bow and arrows. The choicest game is culkd
out for the chief.

During my stay with these Indians they held a dance, which,
notwithstanding the wild appearance of it, was conducted with
the greatest harmony, each one keeping step with their pow-
wow. After the men had gone through their exercises, the wo-
men commenced with such an ease and elegance of manner, that
it was at once pleasing and enticing. Their dance continued
till about 12 o'clock, when the chief came and asked me if 1 had
any whiskey. Knowing that they knew I had some, I thought
proper to own the truth. I had about a gallon left, and re-
paired to my boat where I found Edom asleep, covered with
oil skins. It now began to rain. I took about two qiarts of
brandy up with me, hiding the rest. The dance broke up in
consequence of the rain, and we repaired to their huts, where
they soon drank up their whiskey. The old man got a little
boozey, and began to tell how much he loved me, and informed
roe he would the next day show me a place of metals. I was
much pleased with this conversation, but was soon deprived of
it by his falling asleep. I now went down to my boat and crept
in with my faithful Edom.

Next morning I gave Edom his orders, and again repaired to
the hut. The old chief was a little out of order at his stomach,
but soon got over it. I now put him in mind of his promise the
preceding evening, at which he was astonished, denying his
ever telling me any thing of the kind. When I shewed him a
small piece of silver ore which he had presented me, he began
to curse the brandy as being the instigator of his folly. I smiled,
and told him nothing should be betrayed on my part, and that
if it was repugnant to his wish, 1 should not further insist. Af-
ter studying for some time, he suddenly consented to show me
the place of metals, and seemed highly pleased in the underta-
king. He consulted with some of his principal men, and sent
two of them with me that could not speak Spanish. After tra-
velling for near two days you may well imagine thecritical situa-
tion in which I thought myself; but the third day I discovered
their iutrigue. About 10 o'clock in the morning they led me
to a lead mine of some extent, at which I was much chagrined.
In vain 1 flatterred them by signs, shewing them the piece of sil-
ver ore ; still thoy vouAd vo\xv\ ^ Finding all

JVaturt and Pro vide art .

in vain, I returned with them to the village, a fur having had a
rough travel of about ninety miles.

The old fellow smiled as I entered his hut, and laughed in hi?
sleeve at the intrigue. I told him 1 was much disappointed.
His answer was, that all he was to do was to let me see a place
of metals; by this I naturally suspected there was silver in abuu-
dance.

It was now time for me to proceed on my voyage ; but it was
with regret that I left such strong marks of silver. Pressed for-
ward by an impulse of future prosperity, I again started on the -
25th of December. The weather had now become much cool-
er, and the travelling more agreeable. A few day's journey
brought us to a large branch of the Red river, which emptied
in through a cluster of rocks, forming an amphitheatre of aston-
ishing height. I had the curiosity to asrend this branch for a
considerable distance, where I found the country to be even,
and not broken as at the mouth. Curiosity still led me up this
stream, and I wa9 attracted by the beautiful growth of timber,
the starting of deer and other game. After ascending about five
miles we encamped. We had with us some fresh provision,
which we cooked for our supper. The scent of our venison at-
tracted many hungry visitors, which kept up an incessant howl-
ing during the night, but not approaching within an hundred
yards of our fire.

I arose as daylight appeared, admiring the wonders of crea-
tion. Being determined on taking a tour with my gun, 1 look
Edom with me, after securing the boat. We proceeded in the
* woods for some distance, and found the ground began to get
low and marshy in many places. We saw signs of buifalo hav-
ing formed a kind of path, which we followed for a mile, and
found it end at a salt spring. The spring afforded a conside-
rable stream, which I found to he extremely a>alt, leaving in its
course a kind of salt slime. The water inclined rather to a red-
dish colour. The grounds for several cods around was beaten,
and appeared to be often visited by wild beasts. I was resolv-
ed to spend the night by this spring, and sent Edom back to
the boat for some articles which 1 wanted. He returned about
two o'clock : we then made a small ambuscade near the spring
with a tree standing nearly in front, and waited with patience
for our game. Some time in the night we heard, as it were, a
multitude of footsteps on the march to the salt lick. On com*
ing near the spring they stopped, snuffing and smelling, an if
all was not right. We kept closely concealed till they ap-
proached the spring. I took the pains to count them, and
found the herd to consist of ten buffalo. Ek tilting wilK
I let loose at one of them which was w\\\\\u tcA toftx

The Wonders oj

shot him dead. The report of my gun alarmed the neighbour-
ing beasts, and was answered by the howling of wolves, the
shrill cry of panthers, and the precipitate retreat of the remain-
ing herd, which darted like lightening through the thicket. 1
sat some minutes to hear the confusion my firing had occasion-
ed : the sound at lengtii died away, after echoing and re-echoing
up and down the river. I found the buffalo I had shot quite
dead: he was very large, and of the male kind. We took off
his skin by torch light, and in the morning returned to the. boat
with what we could conveniently carry. The skin 1 found to be
of great service after it was properly cured, and the buffalo,
though far from being the best of meat, was very serviceable.
Flushed with the success I had gained, and the singularity of
my tour, I thought myself almost invincible. We returned to
the Red river.

I now reached a nation of Indians, who called themselves the
Hi sees tribe, having quite a different appearance from any I bad
yet seen. I discovered them by their canoes, six in number,
which lay in a small bay an. 1 went ou shore and waited their
arrival, expecting they w ould soon return. They did not come
back until about sunset, when 1 had just shoved off, and was go-
ing up, when they called me back in a kind of broken Spanish
language. I returned, and they all expressed their friendship,
shaking hands with me in turn, and telling me by signs and bro-
ken Spanish, that they lived about one day's journey to the south,
and insisted on my accompanying them thither; at which 1
shook my head; but they almost forcibly insisted, and 1 at
length consented. We all entered a creek, which I before
thought to be a bay an, and proceeded by Indian file till night
overtook us. We all stopped, and they commenced fixing their
ramps. I did not feel well with respect to our safety, as they
had much confederacy together; and during the whole night 1
did not close my eyes to sleep. They kept up a pow-wow du-
ring the night around a few small fires. I was sometimes di-
verted to hear them mock the owls and wolves, which would
so exactly correspond with their sound that it would be impos-
sible to distinguish them, changing their tones from the gruffest
voice up to the keenest shrill. These and many other of their
manoeuvres, kept sleep from my eyes ; yet I would pretend to
be wholly unconcerned. We pitched our little tent amongst
them. They told me their tribe was^very numerous, and that
there was then with them a Spaniard"who had been with them
for the space of six moons, and that he had no desire to leave
them.

On receiving this information^ my apprehensions were all re-
moved with regard to xV\e \ «ut>^tt\«&» VfVw* ve

%

JS alure and Providtni't*

arrived at the village, which was the next day about twelve
o'clock, I was escorted before the chief, who sat in a drowsy
position in his wigwam. 1 made immediate inquiry for the
Spaniard. A small council was held among the Indians, in con-
sequence of which I did not see him until the next day, and then
to my great mortification 1 found him in a revery, and almost
speechless : he spake but few words, and none of these were sa-
tisfactory. I now had the mortification to see that one of his
ears were cut off close to his head : this seemed to be a satisfac-
tory proof of his former character. He confessed that he was
American horn, and that he had been led to commit a criminal
act in tfie first settlement of the Mississippi territory, on Pearl
river ; that he was cropped and banished ; that he was the de-
rision of every person he met with, and had sought to hide him-
self from the vie w of men in the wilderness, until it should
please God to take him from the world ; and that he had at
length come to this nation, in which he had found protection.
He assured me that they were a cunning artful people, and apt
to plunder, especially horses, for which the}* go a great distance*
He informed me that the whole nation amounted to near two
thousand ; that they have but one gun, which belonged to the
chief ; that their weapons w» re bows, arrows, and knives, with
which they were well provided.

I made inquiry if there were any mineral substances that he
had yet discovered in the country. He said there was one
about an hundred'uriles to the north of them, which he suppo-
sed to be extensive, but that the difficulty in getting to it was
greater than the profits arising from it ; but at no great distance
there was a mine of copper which he had seen, and w hich was
unknown to the Indians. We clandestinely visited this spot, ,
and found a vein w hich we supposed to be nearly half a mile in
length.

During this time I was informed that the Indians were to have
a hunting party in a day or two, and was invited to stay as it
would be very diverting, and was to be on a small* lake situate
about two miles west of the town. This lake communicated
with the river by a small creek. After some deliberation, hav-
ing had an invitation from them in general, I consented to stay.
I was armed w ith a good never-missing rifle, and a pair*of belt
pistols. The day of our departure from the little town on our
bunting tour, was ushered in by a serene sky. and we started with
the rising sun. The Indians had been previously preparing ar-
rows, and equipping themselves in the best possible manner. It
was evident that their object was to outdo me. This I was very
willing they should. 1 cast myself a few balls, clroM»& tc^ yv-
fle, and feed the chief's ertin, which I found to Yte Vr\ ^ n^tn \wA

•180

The Wonders of

predicament, rusty both inside and out, and not having been char-
ged in two years. I cleaned it as well as possible, cut him a few
shot for the day, and gave him powder accordingly.

We arrived at the lake in about an hour, myself and Edom
in my boat, and the others, twenty in number, being two in eack
canoe. This lake is called by the Indians Wauteputsa, or the
water for game ; it is about three miles in length, and a mile and
a half in breadth, in the form of a coffin, and is bounded on all
sides by prairies ; it is interspersed with some small islands. On
this lake and adjacent, there is game in abundance, especially
at this time of the year, and they only appointed certain days to
sport on this sacred place : there were geese, ducks, cranes and
pelicans, in thousands, as well as deer, buffalo, and other laid
game that kept principally on the west side, where I was inform-
ed were a number of small salt licks. The white man that
was with them refused to accompany us for some reason that I
did not understand ; but after we had entered, he came along
the shore, keeping at a little distance, in order not to disturb the
game. The Indians would paddle their canoes with astonishing
velocity and exactness. We had come near the centre inland
in the lake, and as yet had discovered no game of consequence;
but towards the head the water was alive with geese. The In-
dians all got under cover of a small island, and approached in In-
dian file, not making the least noise in paddling, which I observed,
and muffled my oar with some spare cloth I had with me. We
had now reached the island, and all followed the chief hunler in
a line, putting me in the rear even of my negro. We crossed
the island and came behind an artificial breastwork, situate im-
mediately on the bank. After placing themselves in a proper
attitude, those who had arrows discharged them first, which did
not seem to create any alarm among the geese ; several were
shot through, and surrounded by others squalling so that I could
not hear myself speak. After a few were killed with arrows
the old chief fired his gun, hut with no other effect than that of
alarming the game to a flight. The Indians now sent back for
their canoes ; I sent for my boat ;iho, and on bringing them round
to the head of th'.» island we all entered as before. After they
had picked up their Rame they gave shoutj? of joy resembling the
scream of the pelican, crane, and goose ; soon after we discov-
ered a number cf cranes hovering around us, and at length alight-
ing at some distance on our starboard bow. The Indians let fly
a volley of arrow*, hut the distance was too great. I had yet
retained my fire, and was quite in the rear; bidding Edom" to
ease his oars, 1 levelled my rifle and fired about 250 yards, and
had the pleasure to see one shot dead. This much pleased the
chief, who began lo \*V*wyk*A*\\\nwx«s1 fallowed

Nature and Providence.

4b7

"by the others. 1 now told Etlora to show his dexterity iii row-
ing, which he did feathering his oars. We now reached the
crane, and returned, presenting it to the chief. The Indians
all lay in a row, in silent amazement, as I approached the chief,
who was making all signs of satisfaction in his power. 1 fired
off one of my pistols as a salute.

The game being dispersed, they all began to show their skill
in the management of their canoes, and held a kind of play
which I could not understand. Meantime a fine breeze sprang
tip on the lake : I now thought it was my time to show them an
example. We bent our little sail and hoisted it up with an O-Ae-
o-hea-vo : it caught the wind, and we moved with great celerity,
and with such ease that it surprised the Indians. Having at
tiroes a beam wind, it would keel up our little boat till she would
take in water at the gunwale. * We sailed quite to the head of
the lake and fired several salutes, then beating down against the
wind far below them, and then turning before it passed them so
swift and so close that they could not endure the sight. Many
of them caught hold of their boat when they saw us, their eyes
being carried astray by the sail passing them. 1 had just passed
them and lowered sail, when the chief rowed along side and
begged permission to ride with me, suspecting I had the power
of the Qreat Spirit. I took him in, and after taking a few turns
lowered my sail.

We returned to our encampment, where I was introduced to
some squaws I had not before seen. The chief now kept con-
stantly urging me to sell my boat ; but I informed him it was
the only means I had to continue my travels, and strongly re-
fused parting with it. He now seemed resolved, and told me
1 should not take it out of his nation. 1 seemed to pay no re-
gard to his resolution, and was making preparation to depart,
when I was told by the Spaniard they were in earnest, and that
I could trade my boat for horses, but if I refused they would
take it from me according to their own custom, making their
own bargains. I felt much chagrined at this piece of informa-
tion, and made strict enquiry concerning the country still west-
ward. He informed me that the source of the Red river was
about ninety miles further, a south-westerly course ; that some
parts were mountainous, but passable, and that after getting
over the dividing ridge the country was l»eautiful, and filled
with extensive prairies.

I now suddenly changed my mode of travelling, and sold my
boat for two small Spanish horses. I remained with them long
enough to make a couple of saddles after a temporary fashion,
and saddle-bags which were made of my oil cloth.

The poor old chief liked his boat extremt\\ vvAVVaW

The Wondtn of

not manage his sails. He appointed a day on which to make
trial, the wind being strong from the northeast. 1 advised the
Spaniard to accompany him, for tear of some accident ; bat
the chief would have the sole management of it himself. A
sudden flaw of wind upset them, but fortunately it happened
where the water was not more than waist deep. By the Span-
iard's help she was soon righted and bailed out. The chief
then gave up the management to the white man, who conduct-
ed him with safety over this little sea.

Time was now swiftly passing away, and I determined to pro-
ceed. After contriving a sort of bridle for each horso, will
saddles and stirrups, and loading our equippage, we started for-
ward, making a most singular appearance. Edom seemed wefl
pleased with this way of travelling, choosing it in preference to
rowing : and indeed 1 thought it the more expeditious.

The I Usees tribe art a well made people, of large stature,
with high, square foreheads, sloping a little back ; their com-
plexion is lighter than any 1 had yet seen ; their hair had a kind
of reddish cast mixed with a shining black. They believe that
the sun is the greatest being in existence, and that thunder and
lightning were at his command ; chey also suppose the moos
to be a yilcoo, or wife of the sun, and that the stars are their
offspring ; that since 'the white people btfgan to settle their
country, the Great Spirit was striving to scare them off bj
sickness, and by shaking the earth,* in many places, espe-
cially on the Mississippi ; that the red men are the favourite*
of the sun.

Their women are beautifully featured, and have pleasant
countenances, mixed witii a certain modesty peculiar to their
sex. The boys are early taught the use of the bow and arrow,
and the girls the art of making little fancy baskets, &tc.

To be acquainted with their true disposition would require
much experience ; but as far as I could discover, they were ar-
bitrary and self-willed. They supposed that they originated
from a people far towards the east, or rising sun ; that they were
at war with some of the tribes in that place, and were defeated :
that a few of them, according to the account of their forefa-
thers, had come to this country, having crossed big mountains,
and come down two big waters, (the Ohio and Mississippi ri-
vers,) and then up the Red river, until they found a country
that suited them, being neither too hot nor too cold ; that the
time that their ancestors came here was before there were any
white men.

The white man I found among them seemed rejoiced to set'

Adture (md Fruvidtmc.

lue again set out. From this circumstance I concluded there,
must either be something in the nation that attracted his atten-
tion, or he had no pleasure in seeing a white man. I could get
from him no particulars of his life, as he would immediately
change the subject to something else. He seemed much de-
pressed, and would often utter inarticulate words with a deep
sigh, which I supposed to proceed from a heavy heart. He
slept with me the night before my departure ; in his sleep he
seemed much troubled, and at one time exclaimed, O my wife
and children ! This man must certainly have been unhappy,
and was lingering out a life of wretchedness and misery ; he had

Erobably committed some desperate act, and to avoid reproaches
ad wandered into this obscure region.
A, The superstition of this tribe in regard to the sun's power is
^very extraordinary. When one of them dies, they cut a small
slit in the sole of each foot, and lay in a leaf resembling a plant
called the hound's tongue. This leaf is attracted by the sun,
looking towards him in the morning, and following him till be
sets in the west ; it then closes up till morning, and again opens
with the day. This they believe will conduct them safely to
that element, as the saviour of their souls. After this piece of
superstition is completed, the dead are buried, and the above
mentioned plant is transplanted on their grave ; if it should live,
they believe their departed friend has arrived at his blessed
abode ; but should the plant not live, they suppose the fact es-
tablished, that the person on whose grave it was placed, remains
dead as the beasts of the woods for ever. After the burial is
over, they seek to forget their sorrow in a festal dance.

I set out from this tribe on the before mentioned day, with
an escort of a number of the natives, who accompanied me to
the head of the hike, and returned. By the directions I had
received from the Spaniard, with regard to the source of the
river, I concluded to steer west north-west. I was much better
equipped than might be expected, having a si;i?ll axe something
larger than a tomahawk, for which I calculated to have great
use. The first day, we lengthened our course by taking a cir-
cuitous route to avoid begs and morasses. At night we en-
- camped on a little priarie, which afforded a good bait for our
horses. We gathered some fuel and erected a small fire, the
weather being quite cool. We tied our horses head and foot,
not following the directions we had received from the Indians,
who told us that we could let them run at large and they would
not leave us ; but being apprehensive of some intrigue, and
that they by these means expected to get their horses again, we
were cautious. This was only a conjecture of mine. Our hor-
ses staid quietly around us, tho pasture brine: c<wl \ \\\ vahaVuoKA.

■5:

490

Tip tVondtrs of

it resembled the blue grass, and though it was something whJf-
ered they ate it with greediness.

But this nigbt was rendered very unpleasant by the constant
roar of the wolves which surrounded us in ah open field. Ov
horses kept uear the fire, and would shudder at their tremendous
howl. They often approached so near to us, as to be seen very
plainly during the forepart of the night, and towards morning
they became quite alarming, and would approach within pistol
shot. What rendered our case more dangerous, was the scarci-
ty of fuel and there being none handy ; we used what we bad
with economy, but at length it was quite extinguished, and onlj
a few embers left : these we scattered round, which caused a mo»
mentary terror in the wolves. I was now resolved to try my ri-
fle at one which cautiously approached towards our horses : sj
levelled between his eyes, and shot him dead upon the spot.—
This caused a dreadful howliug through the woods, which ina
short time died away, and few more were heard till daylight ap-
peared, which to me was the most glorious light I had ever be-
held, as 1 had but one more ball cast, and no fire or fuel. Be-
tween daylight and sunrise 1 cast about 150 balls. We cooked
provision for the day, and continued our journey.

The length of the wolf I had killed was six feet ten inches
from the snout to the end of the tail ; the tail measured two
feet. It was of a ground colour, with a black list or streak run-
ning along the back ; its teeth were long and sharp ; its body
was slim and poor, and its* ribs distinctly to be seen, shewing its
want of food ; its ears were about the length of those of a car
dog. The ball had struck him in the breast, and passed through
his vitals.

January 11. Passed through an extensive tract of open
priaries, which aflbrded neither water nor proaftender for our
horses. We tVerc about encamping for the night without either,
or even fuel to make a fire ; but considering the danger we had
passed the night before, and that our situation could not be
worse, we still pursued our course, and a little in the evening
discovered a fog arising on our right. This 1 knew must pro-
ceed from low wet ground or from a pond. Our horses seem-
ed anxious and impatient, we gavo them the reins, and in the
space of half an hour they brought us on the margin of a small
creek, in which they plunged and satisfied their thirst, as we
did also our own.

We here saw fresh Indian signs ; a deer having bfen dressed
on the opposite side of the creek, gave us the strongest suspi-
cion. We thought it prudent to keep watch during the night, as
we dreaded the clandestine visits of savages more than that of
ttw wolves the preceding VJ t Iwi * small fi*»f and

Xai.ure a/ul 1-ruviduiee..

kept our horses near us. During the night 1 heard the distant
echo of an Indian voice, after which all was silent till day light.

We had now come to an old Indian camp; some of the huts
were still remaining. The heavy rains compelled us to stop
here : we found a plenty of Spanish moss for provender, and
repaired to one of the huts, which we made to answer a good
purpose by spreading our oil cloths over it. Towards evening
the storm abated, and Edom expressed a desire to go out and
try his skill in shooting for game : to this I consented, as we
were nearly out of provision, having none of the bread kind
left. Edom returned a little after sunset, with a racoon and
large tortoise, which he had taken near a swamp. These we
dressed and dried.
|f Jan. 15th. We crossed a considerable stream running a
northeasterly course, which 1 supposed to be one of the branch-
es of the Red river. Here we were detained for some time in
making a small wicker raft, in which we took our cquippage
safe across, and then returned and swam our horses over. This
stream is about fifty yards wide, and runs very rapidly, its course
being much broken by rocks, and is very deep.

Continuing our course west southwest until the 20th of Jan-
uary, the mountains began to appear conspicuous, gently rais-
ing their blue summits one above another until met by the sky.
Game, (which was our only dependence for subsistence,) we
found not to be so plenty as we had before.

Our prospects were truly pleasing in going over these ridges,
' especially as we surmounted the last one towards the west that
we could observe. On this, one could perceive by turning
round, a sugar loaf peak; a naked summit of rocks, with fal-
ling cascades; an extensive priarie; a wild forest; pleasant
vallies — and in short, every thing romantic, sublime, wild, and
solitary.

During our painful tour over the hills we killed a bear, cata-
mount, and wild hog; though deer, buffalo, and the like, are
seldom seen. Through these ridges are vast quantities of iron
ore, copper, and some silver — but the principal bed is iron, lay-
ing quite bare in many places. Here my compass refused to
obey its polarity, and gave way on every side as attraction ex-
cited.

We had on the last of this month reached the last eminence.
"The thermometer stood at 63° 25' at 12 o'clock. Immediately
ton our course 1 discovered an extensive opening, and on a uear-
er ken with my glass, I found it to be a prinrie, and could dis-
tinguish cattle in abundance feeding upon the plains. We pur-
sued our course, and in the evening found to our great pleasure
a settlement of Spanish and Indians. There Ywfc fe^V«roa-

The fVondeKs »f

es, and those much scattered. Our appearance being some-
what singular, gave a sudden surprise to an Indian belong-
ing to a house we first rode up to ; but making myself known
as well as I could, 1 was immediately conducted to a Spaniard's
house. I was truly glad to see him, and he as much astonished
'to see a regular traveller through this country. I alighted,
and after giving him a short detail of my journey, he indited
or our staying with them a few days to recruit our horses, and
rest ourselves, to which I most willingly consented. Onr hors-
es were turned out at large with theirs on the priaries. The
kind host regaled us with a good supper, or good for a wilder-
ness country; it consisted of ash cake, venison, and bear's meat,
besides coffee. I never ate with more satisfaction.

Next morning and a part of the day were speut in conversa-
tion, in which he related to me his proceedings, and the cause
of his settling in so remote a part of the country. His narra-
tive was as follows :

That himself and the others that came with him had been
brought thither, or near the place in which he now lived ; that
his father, with several others, had escaped the convulsions in
1770, in which the famous city of Guatemala was destroyed:
that a few families lived on a mountain situated about nine miles
east of the vale in which the principal town stood, employed in
the business of cutting timber. For several days previous to
that dreadful event, (as he had been informed by his father,)
there was something in the appearance of nature that boded
nothing good : a sullen stillness prevailed ; the air seemed to be
in a state of stagnation ; the animal creation was in awful dis-
tress ; some fowls were thrown into convulsions ; the sun was
scarcely visible, and nature seemed to have changed its appear-
ance, and, lulled to sleep, to be resting on the brink of destruc-
tion. On the 20th of June, about ten o'clock, the air seemed
to be filled with dusty fragments ; fowls of every description
huddled in flocks together, and the beasts howled with horror.
An awful din commenced that rumbled along the val«, and was
succeeded by repeated shocks : trees, hills, houses, man, and
beast, could no longer maintain an erect posture, but fell pros-
trate, confessing their weakness by repeated cries for mercy. —
Ancient and modern history fall far short of an instance so terri-
ble, rendered more so by having a warning, and the harbinger
of desolation presented in every object. A dismal roll swept a-
long the chaos, and suddenly the atmosphere was changed, ap-
parently in the horizon towards the city ; alas! the city was do
more, its ruins floated in the air : the third shock, with a dread- J
ful crash, terminated the existence of Guatimala. Our moun- 1
tain was in awful suspense, vibrating, shafting its basis, and

Mature and Providences 4Uo

opening l&rge cavities on its surface. The night was dark and
solemnly still, excepting the intervals of a dreadful roar. The
earth seemed to be pained with convulsions for several days to-
gether, and for months after they would feel slight shocks of
earthquakes, which was the cause of their leaving that country.
They had settled several times, and were disturbed by the In-
dians : at length, after many painful years, they had arrived
where they now were, near a tribe of Indians called the Para-
thees, who inhabit a fine tract of country on both sides of a con-
siderable stream of water. Their land was fertile, and they
were likely to live in peace and plenty. They all had Indian
wives except one, whose wife had died in consequence of the ex-
cessive fatigue they endured for several years together in a wil-
derness country. They had some land cleared which bore corn
in great plenty, and had formed a resolution to remain here
for life. They have many horses, which they use in hunting
the elk.

About the 10th of February we again started, having exchan-
ged horses with the settlers, and provided good saddles, and ta-
king as much provision as we could conveniently carry, with
the rest of our load. Our horses travelled free. I got direc-
tions for the best and nearest way towards the city of Mexico,
which place I was determined to visit. Our course was to be
west for about 200 miles, then southwest until we reached a
large cluster of mountains ; we were then to steer south, in
which course we should find the Spanish settlement. At the
same time we were warned of the dangers to which we should be
exposed, both from savage men and beast ; but this news did not
shock me, for I had the worst of death already painted in my
imagination. I feared more from inundations in the spring-
season, than from the inhabitants.

For several days we proceeded without much interruption,
except that of crossing some large creeks, which were not for-
dable ; but when we came to a rapid river, called the Gagundo,
we were much perplexed in finding means to cross it, and in the
attempt, my negro's horse and part of our provision were lost.
The stream was about 300 yards wide, and ran more rapid than
I imagined. We procured several sticks of timber of a proper
size, of which wc made a raft ; but on getting our things on
board and shoving off, we were carried down with such veloci-
ty that it was impossible to set across, although we could easily
reach bottom with our poles, the water being only about six feet
deep. We got about half way across, and found it unsafe to
proceed, on account of some rocks we discovered below, against
which we were in danger of being carried by the rapidity of the
rurrent. We just passed the breakers, and were glad to come

The Wonder* of

tract of swampy laud. Having got quite through the swamp
we fell into a small trace of a footpath, which unexpectedly
came in our way, and created within me some suspicion that
we were in the neighbourhood of savages ; I determined how-
ever to keep the path. We encamped a little after dark. Soon
after, my negro,who had been gathering fuel, hastily returned,
informing me that at no great distance he saw a fire, and that he
also saw several men standing around it. I went to the spot
from whence he had seen them, and soon found that they were
savages. I now knew not whether to go to them, or to remain
where I was ; but concluding that they would see our fire, and
might steal a march upon us and plunder us, and then make their
escape in the woods, and on the other hand that if 1 went boldly
up to them, I might be well received, T resolved to go directly to
them. Accordingly we repaired towards the fire, where 1 found
several Indians who were totally naked. I had approached
within fifty yards of them undiscovered, and stood still, not
knowing in what manner I should introduce myself. At length
1 began a conversation with my negro so loud that they might
hear it ; this alarmed them, and several sprang upon their feet
who had been laying down, and whom 1 had not seen before;
they were looking and peaking in every direction. I still con-
tinued ray conversation with my negro, at the same time moving
towards them. My negro, being on foot, kept close to my side.
At length they got sight of my horse, which was white. They
began jabbering, and! could hear them pronounce in a broken
voice, Spaniard. 1 rode quite up to the fire, and the little pap-
pooses ran behind their mothers. After dismounting, I present-
ed my hand, which they all took in rotation; but they seemed
rather shy of my jet black negro, who offered his hand ; they
were cautious and would hardly touch it. I made them to un-
derstand that I was their brother, by laying my hand on my left
breast. I made them understand by signs that my horse was
hungry, and one or two of the squaws were immediately sew
away ; they soon returned, bringing with them some young corn
and Spanish moss, which my horse ate very well. They pre-
sented us with some fruit not unlike our crab-apple in appear-
ance, but which had the taste of a raspberry. 1 took out some
of my venison and began to cat, and discovering by. their action
that they had got none, I equally divided my little store among
them ; with this they seemed much pleased.

I spake a few words in Spanisii, and was answered by a very
old man, who spoke so distinctly that it rendered our conversa-
tion quite easy. He made strict enquiry respecting the course i
J had come, and whither I was going. I answered all his que?- I
lions with as much ease o« po«?hl(\ and kerned rrot to bn »*orv

AVterc and Providence.

cerned with regard to my situation. Tliey appeared suspicious
when I told them I was exploring the country : they would look
at each other, then at me, and then at my horse : 1 immediately
added that I was bound to Mexico io see my friends. We were
treated with coldness during the night. They invited us to lay
down with them by their fire, we accepted the invitation^ and
my negro slept well, having had but little rest the night before,
on account of the wolves. About four o'clock in the morning I
awaked Edam, and after bidding him not to close his eyes again
soon fell asleep, and did not wake until I heard my horse trot-
ting by me : I sprang up and found a young Indian on the horse,
and his father leading him, who made signs that he only wanted
to amuse his boy. I found Edom asleep ; but the past fatigues
having worn him down, I let him remain. He awaked about
sunrise, and instantly remembered my caution, begged pardon
for his offence. The horse being out of sight, and some of the
Indians having gone, knowing the whole of the proceedings, I
very cooly asked him where my horse .was, pretending, I had
jast awoke. In an instant his eye wa#ou every side, but no
horse could he discover. I had laid my rifle and ammunition
undef some skins, and asked him where my rifle was, affecting
a look of despair. The poor negro fell on the ground and beg-
ged me to kilj him, at the same time adding, that if I would*
spare his life he would never sleep again on such an occasion.
He being my only friend, and knowing his honesty, and that
excessive fatigue had been the occasion of his present miscon-
duct, I pardoned him, but not without telling him the conse-
quences of being unwatchful at such a time..

The Indians having returned with my horse, I began to make
enquiry with respect to their nation. They informed me that
they were called by the Spaniards the Badies, or in their owji
tongue the Quasmigdo tribe, and that their nation was very pow-
erful ; that they had been sent hither for the purpose of hunting,
and had that day arrived : that their brethren lived about tw6
days journey towards the setting* sun ; that their chief was a
very big mai>, and a great warrior.

I found their principal weapons to be bows and arrows, the
arrows pointed with copper : they have also spears pointed with
deer's horns, which are about ten feet long ; these they throw in
the manner of a javelin. They have but few knives, which
they use principally in dressing their game. These people afe
very fond of music and dancing. Their principal way of hunt-
ing is by ensnaring their game, in which they are very artful ;
not only the men, but the women have various ways by which
they entice thc*m, sometimes in pens built for that puTrp©?f\
whirh are made of cane entwined toother.

'53

498

The Mrondcrs of

We had been with them for some time, and saw many of their
manoeuvres, which had no other effect than to give us a proper
idea of Indian manners. Their dexterity on foot is very sur-
prising.

One morning they brought with them to the camp a number
' of skins, and amongst the rest some beavers : it was now my
determination to visit the pond or lake, in which they said they
caught them. Next morning 1 started/leaving my negro behind,
with the goods and horse. I was during the day impressed with
a strong idea that all was not right at the camp. We killed
'some deer and beavers, and at about ten o'clock in the evening
returned ; but alas ! I missed my faithful negro. I stood
speechless for some time, and flattered myself with the hope
that he would soon return ; but the two Indians which were left
at the camp were also gone, and all my equipments. I spoke H
first in a vehement rage, but was pacified by having an arrow
pointed at my breast : I cocked my gun, which greatly terrified <
the poor fellow that was about letting loose at me. I was told. I
however, that it was unless to resist, as I should he overpowered
by numbers, and that the next day I was to accompany them to
•their chief, who was about two days journey off* I at first re-
fused to go ; but when they informed me that my negro and
horse had gone thither, 1 consented. The next morning we set
out, and in about an hour came to a considerable stream, where
the savages had bark canoes ; in these we descended the river
until about sunset, when we came to an encampment of several
Indians and squaws, who had also been on the business of hunt-
ing. The Indians had much conversation together, occasional-
ly looking at me, and then continuing their conversation with
repeated shouts of victory. Judge of my feelings in the situa-
tion in which I then was ; they had taken from me my gun and
pistols, and had tied my hands behind me : in this situation 1
next morning began to .descend the river. One of the Indians
was shockingly mangled by means of one of my pistols, with
which he was playing: while looking very earnestly at the bore
of the pistol, and playing with his fingers about the trigger, be-
ing cocked, it went off, and its contents tore away his left cheek,
and shockingly mangled his face. At this, he immediately
threw the pistol into the river, and fainted away. I was in
hopes it had killed him, or wounded him mortally, at the same
time fearing lest I should be held accountable for" the deed ; but
they must know me to be innocent, as 1 was sitting in the boat
with my hands tied behind me.

At the report of the pistols repeated shrieks re-echoed from A
every quarter, and I was soon surrounded by several canoe? : I
bnt on examination they found he had committed thn act nitl» |

'aiuve and Providence.

tils own bauds. An old man then took my rifle and the other
pistol in his boat, and left an ugly squaw to row my boat and
nurse the wounded man. I sat in a very restless state, expect-
ing to undergo some torture for the accident which had hap*
pened.

In the afterpart of the day I found this stream opened into a
kind of lake. An island appeared in the centre, surrounded
by water of no great width. The sun was ju£t setting, and all
nature had a mournful appearance. I saw a smoke at a distance
through the opening, and on the island and shores I discovered*
a crowd of. people, eager to see a white man.

For near two hours were these two parties yelling, being
answered by each other, and keeping up a continual noise.—
Having got within a quarter of a mile of the party on shore, I
saw my white horse standing in the midst of a multitude of sav-
ages.

At length we reached the shore, and I was untied and led be-
fore the big man; in reality he was large enough for a giant : 1
judged him to be at least seven feet two inches in heigth, and he
was suitably proportioned. He gave shrieks of joy at having
such strange looking animals as myself and negro in his power ;
but when the wounded man that had shot himself was brought
before him, I could compare his yells to nothing else than bro-
ken thunder. The man that was shot proved to be his brother's
son ; the cause was explained to him, and he was reconciled to-
wards me.

On my first landing I saw my negro tied fast to a tree, and he
began to cry horribly, his sighs rending the air. 1 addressed
myself to one who understood Spanish, and requested htm to
speak in the negro's behalf, which he did without hesitation ;
but soon returned with an answtr that the chief had taken a
particular liking to him, and he privately informed me that it
would be difficult for me to get him away. The idea of losing
my faithful negro created a sudden anxiety, which was soon
turned to a depression of spirits.

I wa3 now stripped and searched, having all my clothes, my
shirt excepted taken off: fortunately they missed my little for-
tune, which I had concealed in a band around me, it being in
gold. They gave me my clothes and returned to me my howe,
the chief at the same time telling me I was at liberty : they al-
so restored to me my gun and other equipments, the lost pistol
excepted. 1 asked if my black man was also at liberty, but
was answered in the negative. I then asked them if I could
remain in their nation long enough to procure some provision,
and recruit my horse: they told me that was repugnant to the
■chief's wishes : however they consented, making me promise

500

The 1 loaders oj

not to have any communication with the black man, whom the
chief boldly said lie meant to keep. 1 had now nothing to do
but wait with as much patience as possible, hoping? that by some
means I should be able to rescue my Edom from a life of wretch-
edness and misery among1 savaeccs, who would perhaps treat
him with contempt, and keep him in slavery. But I was in-
formed that they thought him far superior to white men, in con-
sequence of his being black : they supposed him to be made of a
superior quality of clay, and that the red clay man ranked next:
but the white men they thought were made of the poorest kind
of clay, and that the Great Spirit, after he had made them, had
pity on them and pave them learning, but would not bestow it
upon black and red men, because they were pure and spotless as
they were first made. The* white men, they said, had polluted
themselves, and their learning had been a great evil amongst all
nations and kindreds of people. They believed that the red
men would yet be blessed with all the good stores of nature,
and have dominion over all the country, and that the slaves
would be all set at liberty. I soon grew weary of this conver-
sation.

My poor negro, by some means, got information of their pro-
ceedings, and was almost mad with rage and despair : the dread-
ful apprehension of being again in slavery, caused him to vent
his anguish and threats against the savages, which provoked
them to such a degree that a council was held concerning him.
He was yet confined, and by an interpreter he was informed,
that if he would stay with them and marry a squaw, he should
be happy ; at the same time he was given to understand, that
in case of a refusal, he would be tortured to death. He firmly
refused a compliance, and another council was held, by which
it was determined to try the effect of torture. No one could
describe the anguish that fdled my breast, on seeing1 my faith-
ful Edom led out by this big monster, the chief, to have his
fortitude tried. Having led him to the appointed place,, they
stripped him naked and tied him to a tree; they then sheared
off his wool clone to his head, and the infernal tortnre then he-
gan by throwing hot embers on his hare skull, notv ithstanding
his lamentations and my entreaties: they also threatened me
with condign punishment if 1 said any thing more in his behalf.
In this way ihey served him, for no other crime than that of be-
ing faithful to me. They now desisted for a few moments, and
asking Edosn if he would yet consent to stay, he answered,
that if -they would spare his life he would live with them and
-serve them. His head was sorely scorched hy these infernal
monsters.

I now began to \ose a\\ \\<y^ ^ twining his liberty, ami

\aturt and Pmvidejice.

concluded to pursue my journey alone, but not without regrctv
yhese Indians are a cruel race of people, whose only wish is to
gratify their own desires : their hearts are unfeeling towards the
wretched victims who have the misfortune to be placed within
the reach of their power. A few days passed on in anxious
suspense, when by a kind providence it was removed by critical
means, and such as would cause a feeling heart to shudder.
We had been with them about seven days 5 the man who had

% wounded himself with my pistol begau to recover, and they were
fitting out another hunting party ; at the same time I was mak-
ing preparations to go, and my poor negro overwhelmed at the
idea of parting, and being left in a place so wretched ajjd for-
lorn. My gun having been charged some time, I drew off the
load and put in fresh powder. While this was doijjg I found
they were holding a council, and seemed very much agitated ;
at length, to my no little surprise 1 found myself surrounded,
and was quickly disarmed, and at the same instant was informed

_ that unless I would agree to one proposal, they would never let
me go out of the nation. After being so cruelly treated, what
heart could endure their hellish provocations, and thus torment-
ing one or two who had fallen into their power ; I quickly de-
manded of them to pronounce the proposal. They told me all
•strife was useless, and that the proposal was to have a turtle's
egg placed on my head, and let my negro shoot it off at twenty
yards distance. As my negro knew nothing of drawing a pre-
cise sight, I hesitated, and told tliem I would reverse it and shoot
the egg from the negro's head. By this expedient I obtained
ray liberty, together with that of my negro ; for, taking it for
granted that I should kill him, they readily consented to my
proposal. They tied Edom to a tree, and measured off twenty
steps ; but thinking this not far enough, they measured ten more.
From this distance I was directed to fire, all things being in read-
iness; my enervated hands begiiii to tremble, and 1 was uncer-
tain whether I should accomplish my design or not. My negro
requested me not to be affected, and said that if I should be so
unfortunate as to shoot too low, it would be a satisfaction to be
put out of his miserable existence by me, rather than by those
hideous monsters, who stood ready with their bows and arrows
to despatch me, if I refused to comply. The egg was about/the
size of a gtose egg, but rather longer. Thus the poor fellofr
stood at a distance of thirty paces from me, on object of sav-
age barbarity. I once raised the instrument of death, but my
hands trembled and I let it drop ; again, and again I raised it, in
order to decide. The victim stood in awful suspense, awaiting
the crisis which should set him at liberty, or take him out of exis-
tence. At length, summoning up all my coutfc^, \YwJfifc& w§

The IVuadtr* *J'

rifle with as much deliberation and exactness as possible, and as
a wise providence would have it, cut the egg on the lower side,
taking the skin off his poor scorched head. With an exultation
which nothing but preservation from the worst of deaths could
have excited, he cried out, God bless you, master ; and at the
same time the natives stood speechless with amazement, and
seemed to feel sensible of their own cruelty towards one who
had never done them an injury.

My horse was brought me, with all my equipage, and I again
mounted and set off towards Mexico, not without having obtain-
ed a general description of their nation. What most excited
my astonishment was the extravagant size and great strength of
the chief. All his people fear him, for being arbitrary in his
laws, he would frequently put to death with his own hands,
criminals who were falsely accused, without judge or jury.

My poor negro was overwhelmed with gratitude, at his unex-
pected *:beration from a nation of such ferocious wretches ; in-
deed the teiii:iv ^.iu- i. «fcen suoh a liking to me, that he preferred
death to a separation. We immediately commenced our jour-
ney, and I had abundant cause to be thankful that nothing worse
had happened. 1 had lost some few articles, but the bulk of my
property was still safe.

We proceeded but slowly along, owing to the extreme weak-
ness of my negro whose head, and many other parts ef his bod}'
were very sore and painful ; he however refused to lie by entire^
]y. We encamped this night near a small rivulet which was plen-
tifully surrounded with thick long grass, which was very ser-
viceable, not only as food for our horse, but as a pleasant bed ;
the wild beasts were not so troublesome as formerly , and we
slept soundly until the shrill and pleasant notes of the birds
awakened us from our slumber. We immediately arose, and
after taking a slight breakfast, again pursued our journey.

We now entered a thick and almost impenetrable forest, and
it was with extreme difficulty we forced our way through it;
this difficulty was increased by the vast numbers of reptiles,
which were very troublesome. A species of snake I had not be-
fore seen attracted my attention, and caused me to take partic-
ular notice of it.' It darted with rapidity from tree to tree, and
seemed to be of an enormous size. I ordered Edom to walk be-
hind the horse, and to carry my pistol and a long pole which I
used as a spear, whilst I continued on the horse and watched the
monster with my ride, ready to bring him down. In a few min-
utes he attempted to ascend a magnolia, whose trunk being clear
of branches, I had a fair opportunity to shoot him. I fired, and
brought him to the ground : my negro advanced, and perceiving
him still alivp, despatched \vvnv yj\\V\ V&s^m • THe ball entered

NaUift ipd Providtricc.

his neck, and passed entirely through him. It was the largest
snake I ever saw, measuring thirty-eight feet in length. This
snake is called by Mr. Pernaut the large spotted snake, very
likely from the number of small spots on his body. It was ofa
dusky white colour, the back interspersed with twenty-four large
pale irregular spots, and the other parts of the body with an
infinite number of smaller ones ; the tail is of a dark colour, and
the sides are variegated with different colours. The head is
covered with small scales, and has a broad belt back of the eyes.
It wants the large dog fangs, of course its Lite is not poison-*
ous. . The tongue is fleshy and forked. Above the eyes, on
each side, the head rises high. The scales of this snake were
all very small, roundish, land smooth: the tail does not ex-
ceed one eighth of its whole length. The Indians, who adore
this monstrous animal, use the skies for clothes, on account of
its smoothness and beauty : I saw several of them among the
Indians, who assured me they were held in great veneration. —
The flesh of this snake is eaten by the natives, who esteem it
good food.

After travelling about twelve miles through this thick and al-
most impenetrable forest, we arrived where it became more
clear, and were enabled to make greater progress. We en-
camped by the side of a spring, after having travelled eighteen
miles.

I sent Edo'm to collect some wood, while I arranged my papers,
and secured such things as were of importance, in case I should
be attacked. I had hitherto steered a southwest course, as near-
ly as possible, but now resolved to steer more westerly, as I
had understood thera were two tribes of Indians who were
friendly, one of which in their manners «nd dialect resembled in
some manner the ancient Welch. As this was a subject which
agitated the learned I felt anxious to ascertain the truth of it,
and make* such discoveries as were in my power.

About noon it began to rain most violently, accompanied with
thunder and lightning. My negro now returned, bringing such
wood as was necessary, and we immediately set about securing
our things from the storm ; a small grove of trees was selected,
and our awning was accordingly spread, affording us a safe shel-
ter from the rain. Night now set in, and it rained with as much
fury as at first ; the lightning gleamed with such brilliancy around
as enabled us to see the least article as clear as at noonday. —
The roar of the beasts was truly terrible ; whilst the thunder
rolled in awful majesty, and shook the surrounding hills.

After finding my horse, who had strayed some distance from
the tent, we packed up and proceeded on our journey. We had
f ravelled about six miles, when \vn came to an opening, l^Jaaxv

JValure and Providence,

505

pace, in order to have an opportunity of observing the differ-
ent paths, and of being prepared for the abroach of the natives.
About two miles we ascended a hill, and I plainly, perceived
about twenty wigwams ; in a few minutes more, an Indian, who
bad been after wood, came close alongside, without at first per-
ceiving me : the instant he discovered me he dropped his wood,
and ded with precipitation. I felt chagrined to see him make
oil" so fast, and endeavoured by every means in my power to in-
duce him to come back, but in vain ; he was out of sight in an
instant. 1 had not the least doubt he would make such a report
to his nation as would alarm their fears, and cause them to re-
ceive us with coldness ; nor was I much mistaken, for on com-
ing within about a quarter of a mile of the village, I saw them
draw up in battle array, armed with bows, arrows, clubs, and
slings.

I now dismounted from my horse, and advanced alone, tel-
ling Edom to remain behind, and in case he saw any violence
offered to me, to come up and endeavour to assist me. I had
my ritle in my hand, but in such a manner as could not excite
their fears ; when I came within about an hundred yards of
them, I stopped, held out my hand, and addressed them in the
Spanish language ; at this they all seemed to confer one with
auother, and soon one of them, "whom 1 judged from his ap-
pearance was the chief, advanced a fi w steps and laid down his
club and arrows, beckoning me towards him. I put down my
rifle and immediately advanced towards him, but before I had
time to speak one word, three or four of them rushed forward
and seized my piece. I now addressed myself to the chief, tel-
ling him from whence I came, and demanding my irun, which' I
told him was all I had to procure victuals with. He seemed to
pay no attention to whatl said, but laugher! immoderately, of-
ten patting me on the cheek, and showing signs of great satis-
faction.

During this time, Edom, who had been an unobserved spec-
tator of the scene, advanced with an intention of affording me
assistance if possible, when a sudden scream from the squaws
proved that he was noticed. All was now confush.ii ; (he chief
forcibly drew me in the rear of the Indians, who had resumed
their arms, and were waiting the approach of my negro. Edom,
finding himself discovered, advanced with firmness, and com-
ing in front of the Indians, took off his cap, and after making
a. low bow, began dancing a Guinea dance. I felt alarmed, and
feared it would 'cause them to commit some violence: I was
however mistaken ; they all fell a laughing, and the old chief
advanced and took him by the hand, seeming to be highly ptea«-
e«f with hi»o.

The Wonders of

I now went up to the chief, and requested him to give me my
gun ; he told me it was out of his power, he being not the head
of the tribe, and that I must accompany him to their town,
where the head chief was, who would return it, if it could be
found, this was what 1 was afraid of, that the Indian who had
my gus would absent himself, and that by this means I should
lose it. I found it impossible to obtain it by any other means,
and complied. The old man now conducted me to his wigwam,
where T found his wife and two of his daughters : he informed
me that they were on a hunting party, and should return the
next day. Edom was allowed to come and wait upon me, and
he very much attracted the attention of the chiePs daughters,
who indulged their curiosity by examining him very particularly;
and the exclamation Tee, tee, which fell from both of them,
proved that they were well pleased with him.

During the evening we were amused with dancing, which last-
ed till a late hour, and was joined in by both sexes. The music
was performed on a simple instrument, made of cane, having a
hole in the middle, into which the musician blew, and produ-
ced not a disagreeable sound.

In the morning the chief awaked me, and the natives proceed-
ed to collect their materials for moving towards the town. A-
bout noon we started, and travelled through a fertiie country,
abounding in venerable trees, which reared their heads in ma-
jestic grandeur to the skies. Small rivulets interspersed the
pleasant vallies, apd at once gave beauty and animation to the
scene. We travelled about fifteen miles, when we came to a
thick swamp, through which we found an Indian path that led us
about half a mile; we then opened upon an extensive plain,
and the appearance of the town caused a general joy in our lit-
tle group, who had all been out some time, and were in want of
many necessary articles.

On our arrival, the chief, with all the women and others of
the tribe, came out to meet us, and seemed much pleased at the
return of their friends. I was presented to the chief, who re-
ceived me with kindness, and spake a few words to me ; bat
finding I did not understand him, he conversed with me by signs,
and seemed highly pleased with the answers I gave him respec-
ting the countries 1 had passed through, the manners of the peo-
ple, &c. He told nae he had been in nineteen battles ; that be
once went a great way off to fight the whites, but the rain pre-
vented him from giving them battle. He showed me nineteen
scars, and told me he had two sons killed in a war with a great
nation in the west.

I now stated to the chief the loss I had sustained of my gun.
and requested hina to canse it to he returned to me. He Immp-

Nature end Frtcideuct:.

diately replied, that if any of his people had done so they
should be punished, and directed me to follow him. When we
came to the square, (a large space found in the centre of almost
all Iudian towns,) I was directed to stand still : he then ordered
some of the inferior chiefs who attended him to go and collect
the men. In a few minutes the sound of shells was heard in
every quarter. 1 began to grow alarmed for my safety, and the
old man perceived me to look grave, demanded the reason, as-
suring me I had nothing to fear, as this was a customary thing
when they assembled a council.

In a few minutes all the natives of the village were assembled,
and arranged in two rows. The chief then advanced into the
middle, of them, and spoke for some time with a loud voice ; at
the end of every sentence he would stamp his foot uith violence
upon the ground. W en he had finished speaking a profound
silence reigned throughout the assembly, till at length one ad-
vanced and spake a few words to the chief, who answered him
with mildness ; he went away, and not a syllable was spoken in
bis absence, which .was, as near as I could judge, about t-venty
minutes. At last he returned, bearing in his hand my gun,
which had been taken to pieces. 1 felt concerned lest he had
broken it. but I soon saw that it had been taken apart by slip-
ping off the iron rings ; he advanced to the chief and laid the
gun at his feet. The old man now looked at him with stearn-
uess, and after addressing him for about twenty minutes, direc-
ted two or three to bind him. I now understood he was to be
punished, and advancing to the chief, I kneeled, and implored
him by signs to forgive the offender. He seemed surprised, and
was ready to refuse me; but I intreated with earnestness, and
he at length consented to pardon him. The moment his pardon
was pronounced, the natives all sat up a shout, and came to-
wards me. taking my hand, - and expressing siges of joy and
thankfulness, assuring me I should be among them as a brother,
so long as I thought proper to stay.

Upon receiving my rifle, I made the old man a present of
some pictures I had drawn, representing a horse, Indians, hogs,
&c. together with a large string of beads, and a small belt, wjth
which he seemed highly pleased ; he in return gave ine a pair
of mockasins, curiously trimmed with wampum.

The chief informed me that they were going to war with a
neighbouring nation, which was considered very powerful, and
he wished very much to ask of me a particular favour, which,
if I would grant, would enable them to beat their enemies ; it
was no other than that I should let Edom go and carry my mus-
ket, which would strike terror and dismay into the hearts of
their enemies. I immediately told the chief, that not only my

Tlit Wondtis •

black man, but myself also would go with them, ami would do
all in our power to relieve them from their difficulties ; at this
the} were overjoyed, and endeavoured to express their gratitude
by a thou band different jestures.

They immediately set about preparing for their intended cam-
paign/ I found them to be about two thousand strong, all of
them armed with bovis and arrows, spears and slings. The ar-
rows were about six feet in length, pointed at the head with
bone, and made ver\ smooth ; they were dipped in a poisonous
kind of liquor, which they said no remedy among them could
remove. Their spears were twelve feet long, ftnade of ash,
straight and very highly polished ; these they throw to an astoo-
ishing distance, and rarely ever missed their object. Their
slings were made of the fibres of the sycamore tree twisted, *itli
which they would scud stones the distance of two hundred yard*,
and with surprising swiftness. On the whole, when they are
equipped their appearance is far from being contemptible.

I now cleaned my rifle and pistol, set Kdom to cast some
balls,, and made other preparations for the ensuing campaign.
They intended starting next new moon, which would be inlhref
days. My principal object in taking this tour with the In-
dians, was to have a view of the country, and ascertain whether
there were any mines or other valuables.

On the evening of the day preceding their march, all tltf ■
chiefs assembled in the square where they were accustomed to
do business ; they seated themselves in a circle round a monad
of earth nearly in the centre of the square, and were soon fohW
ed by all the young men and women in the village, who took
their seats at a respectful distance from the old man ; next came
the boys and girls, from twelve to eight years old, and lastly
the old women, who'ranged themselves in an exact circle ou
die outside.

The old chief arose and harangued them for some time, (as 1
afterwards understood,) on the injuries and aggressions which
they had received from their enemies, who had destroyed their
hunting, waylaid their women and children, and celled tbein
cowards. He was succeeded by the next oldest, who recounted
the bravery of their fathers, and the many battles they had won *
from those with whom they were going to contend ; then telling
them that if they were now defeated, when the white man was
with diem, it would be injurious to their country and a dk-
grace to themselves, he exhorted them to fight valiantly. This
chief was succeeded by several others, who endeavoured by
their eloquence to inspire their young men with courage.

After this they all rose, and saug their war song in a loud

Nature and Providence.

tone of voice ; it was quick, and in many parts not unmusical,
they beat exact time with their feet and hands.

They now all formed themselves into a straight line, the old
men at the head. After marching twice round the square,
the old men and old women filed off for the chiefs wigwam,
but the young ones continued on to the centre of the square. —
Musical instruments were now produced, aud preparations made
fqr dancing. It commenced by a young man and woman lead*
ing off, who danced for some time, and were then joined by oth-
ers. Thejr dancing was not graceful, nor did it display any
ingenuity; it consisted in moving the foot first backward and
forward, and then jumping up and down, with a harsh noise
made by the clapping ot their hands.

The dance lasted for some time, when the young men disap-
peared ; they soon returned, habited in their* war dress, and
painted most hideously. On their appearance the girls retired,
and left them in possession of the ground. They commenced
their ceremonies by singing and hideous jestures, which lasted
near an hour ; they then assembled in a circle, and commenced
dancing with the most wild and savage manner I ever saw. I
understood this was their war dance, and was always performed
before they gave an enemy battle ; it continued till a late hour,
when they separated for the night.

On the 12th of May we awoke early, and started on our ex-
pedition. The Indians were now very cautious in their pro-
ceedings advancing but slowly, and 1 ha$l an opportunity to
view the country, which abounded in all kinds of wild fruits
and flowers, with lofty trees whose heads were covered with
perpetual verdure*" The soil appeared to be a black loam in-
termixed with a reddish kind of earth, and it is certainly the
richest 1 ever saw.

About noon some of our scouting parties returned, bringing
information that the enemy were drawn up in battle array about
half a mile distant. At this information our party halted, and
a council of war was held. 1 now advanced, and JbeckonuH;
with my hand that I wished to be heard, they immediately tool
me to the centre of the circle, and listened with profound at-
tention. I told them I wanted sixty of their bravest warriors to
accompany me, and that with these 1 would beat their enemies.
They seemed to doubt whether that was possible, as there wen?
upwards of fifteen hundred of their enemies. 1 assured them
that it was possible, and that they bad nothing to fear as .to tin:
result.

The sixty warriors were soon selected, and were the .^ m": .
and bravest in the whole tribe : besides their arms, they hau
kind of shield which I had not before noticed ; it consisted of

Tlit Wonders of

buflalo skin cut iii a circular form, eight or tea pieces of which,
being pounded hardr were fastened together with thongs : it
was calculated to resist the force of an arrow, and was con-
siderable defence to them in time of battle. 1 directed Edom
to take the pistol, with balls, &c. whilst I carried the rifle, which
was loaded with a brace of balls. An old chief, who knew
where the enemy were encamped, undertook to conduct us to
them. 1 told the warriors that when I gave the signal, they
must advance and give their enemies battle, and when they
were all drawn out, 1 would fire and rout them ; to this the/
confuted.

In about an hour we were nearly up with the encampment of
the enemy, andcould hear them singing and dancing ; and in a
few minutes we heard a yell, by which we knew we were discov-
ered. We now advanced briskly to the contest, and on coining
to a hollow I placed Edom in it, telling him to take a favourable
opportunity and sally out an ong them. A little further on, I
espied the natives advancing in order of battle : I now halted,
and placing m\>elf behind a tree, told the Indians to advance,
aud after the first discharge o*' arrows to retreat near to the
tree where 1 stood. I saw it would be more advantageous for
Edom to join me, and therefore beckoned .for him to come up.
In a few minutes I heard the yells of both parties, and saw the
arrows flying in the air. Our party no sooner discharged their
arrows than they retreated near to the tree where 1 stood, pur-
sued by their enemies. Seeing a large party advancing headed
by a man 1 judged to be their chief, I singled him out, fired,
;uid brought him to the ground. I now took my pistol and
fired again when another (ell. This created Consternation and
amazement among them ; they heard a noise, saw their chief
fall, but could not see any appearance of what hurt him. 1
soon had loaded my piece, aud our Indians being anxious to ad-
vance, I put myself at their head. We charged with quickness,
and on coming within fifty yards of the enemy, I levelled and
brought two of them to the ground : at the same time the In-
dians rushed forward with horrid ye Is, and the r enemies fled
on all sides. They pursued them for some time, and then re-
turned and fell to plundering their camp, and setting fire to their
wigwams. The scalp of the chief was presented to me, but I
refused to take it, telling them it was not good.

The Indians found large quantities of plunder, which detained
them till a late hour to collect : we then all set out for our en-
campment. When we arrived within about half a mile, they
set up a loud and tremendous noise, and were in a short time
answered by all those who were waiting for us ; it consisted in a
kind of song which they chanted with much vehemence, reciting

Nature and Providence.

the praises of the warriors who had fallen in battle, their own
valour, and the many dangers; they had incurred.

When we returned to the village we were received with great
demonstrations of joy by all the women, who came out to moet
us, dancing and singing. I was very much caressed bj' the old
chiefs daughters, who seemed highly pleased at some presents I
had made them of beads, and wer* continually crying Tee, tee,
with much satisfaction. '

When we arrived, I was conducted to the chief, who received
me with much affection, calling me his Yocatee, or brother ; he
told me their enemies would not attempt to fight them any more,
and that they would sue for peace in a few days. He was not
mistaken, for on the next day an Indian chief from this tribe was
brought in, who said that it was the wish of the nation to have
peace ; that they had never wished to go to war, but for the
chief who was now dead, who had an enmity against them for
killing his father. The old man then told him, that on the mor-
row he would assemble all the chiefs, and that they must have
four of theirs, to agree on terms ; he then departed.

On the next morning they all assembled round a large fire,
nearly in the same order they did when they set out for war, ex-
cept that the chiefs from the other tribe wore placed in the mid-
dle. They smoked the pipe of peace, and each chief made a
short speech, in which he declared in the name of his nation he
had no desire to go to war ; this being done, they all fell to dan-
cing, which lasted for a considerable time.

When they- had finished dancing, they went to feasting on a *
buffalo which had been killed and roasted for the occasion. —
After they had sufficiently, satisfied their hunger, they arose and
once more smoked the pipe of peare, all standing and looking
towards the west ; after this they shook hands and parted. Thus
was a war concluded which threatened the loss of hundreds in
the contest, with the loss of only fourteen or fifteen, and secured
to me the gratitude and esteem of the nation.

The nation which 1 have just had occasioh to mention, accor-
ding to the information 1 have rereived from the old man, con-
tains in all about five thousand souls. They are situated about
80 miles from the Red river ; about south southwest, on a lake
called by the natives Testzapotccns ; their country is fertile, a-
bounding in good pastures, which fred immense herds of buffalo
and deer ; some antelopes are likewise to be found in the coun-
try, the skins of which are seen in plenty among the natives. —
They are a warlike people, and fond of plunder, making frequent
incursions upon the neighbouring tribes ; they are stout, robust
and well made, being all of them near six feet in height.

Their marriage ceremonies are somewha* singular, and d*»-

512 The Wonders of

serve to be related. When a young man is desirous of obtain-
ing a wife, he goes out, kills a buffalo, and then proceeds to the
hut of his sweetheart ; he now sets up a lamentable howl, which
he continues for some time ; at last the damsel appears with a
large stick, with which she beats him far some time, lie standing
entirely still ; whun she is tired she desists, and he goesJii* way.
This is continued for some time and if the lover appears not to
flinch from the beating, she at last lays down the nick, and sets
herself at his feet : the old people then come out and invite him
into the hut, which he for some time refuses, but at length con-
sents. On the next day the marriage is solemnized, and lie car-
ries her to his hut.

I now thought of proceeding on my journey, and acquainted
the chief with my intention, telling hi ml must proceed. He
seemed very loth to have me leave him, and pressed me to stay
a little louger : I told him it was impossible. I found we should
have to return nearly to the place where we first met the Indians,
before we should be enabled to proceed on our jouruey. i di-
rected Edom to put every thing in readiness, that we might de-
part on the next day : he was much joyed at this, for however
well treated by the Indians, he did not like to be among them.

Early in the morning we were both mounted, having had the
good luck to procure another horse : although they were very
scarce, and held in high estimation by the natives, yet they spa-
red me one in consideration of my services to them. We were
accompanied by the old chief and several of the native*, who
seemed sorry at our departure. When we came near ta the
place where they must leave me, they all stopped, took me by
the hand, and shook it affectionately. They then commenced
singing in a low and plaintive tone, which lasted for some lime;
the old man then advanced, threw a string of wampum around
my neck, embraced me, and we parted.

I proceeded on my way, steering as nearly as possible a south-
west by a westerly course, in order to strike another tribe of In-
dians, from whom I expected to collect some considerable infor-
mation relative to that part of the country. We proceeded
without meeting with any thing worthy of notice until night,
when we encamped, having come eighteeu miles.

The Indians which we had just left, are called Yorotce?.—
They are small iu stature, but well built, and their women hand-
some. Their clothing is made of the skins of beasts, or of feath-
ers sewed together: it consists of two pieces, one of which reach-
es from the waist to the knees, and the other is thrown loosely
over the shoulders. Their huts are simple in their construc-
tion, being four poles set in the earth, which are tied at the M|»
and covered with the leaves or hark of trees-

Nature and Providence.

513

1 pursued my journey the next morning without meeting any
obstructions, and about seven o'clock we stopped to breakfast on
a large tortoise my negro had caught in the neighbourhood of
a pond. After proceeding on our journey for about four miles,
we came to a cane brake, which extended from a small rivulet,
to the margin of a wood. Here I perceived a number of ducks,
one of whieh I shot, and found it very good meat, although of
a fishy taste.

We travelled this day about twenty miles, and encamped for
the night. The scene around was truly interesting: the last
rays of the setting sun shone upon the tops of the surrounding
mountains and trees ; the twilight clad all thing? in a livery
of gray ; the moon rose with clouded majesty, and threw over
the darksome scene her silver mantle. I contemplated the sur-
rounding objects with awe and admiration. All was silent as
the hour of death, for beasts and birds had retired to their grassy
couch or to their nests. I felt much depressed in spirits, as I
was about entering among a tribe of savages with whose char-
acter, customs, arid language, I was wholly unacquainted, and
was altogether uncertain what reception 1 should meet with from
them, which perhaps would be instant death : but I committed
myself to- the protection of that omnipotent Being who had hith-
erto directed all my steps ; who had been my guide, by day
and guard by night, and without whos$ permission ' the fierce
inhabitant of the wood, and a:l the savage bands, cannot harm;
I felt that I was under His sole protection. Having no friend
to converse with, or cheer the melancholy hour, my heart sunk
within ine as my mind reverted to past scenes ; the "recollection
of the friends I had left, the almost trackless space that separa-
ted me from all my heaj-t held dear, with a thousand tender re-
flections, crowded upon my mind, till at length, overpowered
with fatigue, I fell asleep, having the cold earth for my bed,
and the canopy of heaven for my covering.

I awoke in the morning refreshed ; all nature seemed to smile
around me. Cheering indeed to the lonely traveller, are the
first rays in the east ; yet how much more glorious and resplen-
dent does it appear, when, risen above the horizon, the suit
comes to full view, to cheer all nature with his beams ; the
bloom of spring presents itself on every side, and in the enjoy-
ment of its fragrance are felt new delights, while every sorrow-
ful idea gradually retires from the bosom.

We arose and pursued our journey ; we had not travelled
over four miles, when Edom stopped and exclaimed. See there,
master. 1 looked, and saw one of the largest bears my eyes
ever beheld ; he seemed to be of a kind I had not before seen,
and kent his eyes constantly fixed on me ; 1 stopped and level-

G5

*14

The Wonders of

led my gun, wliich was loaded with bajl. The moment 1 fired
he sprang towards me; and I had but just time to get into a tree,
when he was at my horse's feet ; lie seemed regardless of him,
and immediately prepared to ascend the tree. My situation
was truly dangerous ; fortunately 1 had my ammunition with
me and 1 set about loading my gun. The bear, although se-
verely wounded, was determined to ascend the tree, and 1 had
every thing to fear ; he had not seen Edora, who now advan-
ced and levelled at him with his pistols ; the ball entered bis
lungs, but so tenacious was he of life that he now seemed pos-
sessed of more strength than ever, and seemed determined to
ascend the tree. My rifle being loaded, I levelled and shot
him through the head ; he fell to the ground, bellowing and
rolling about, and when I descended from the tree, he bad
breathed bis last.

This was the largest bear 1 ever saw, measuring twelve feet
without his tail : I could not tell how much he weighed, but we
could not lift him from the ground. We proceeded on our jour-
ney, and encamped for the night about ten miles distant from
where 1 killed the bear, as it took us sometime to skin him,aod
secure that part of his meat which would be of service to ti$.

The next morning the sky was overcast, and I dreaded a
storm ; I nevertheless pursued my journey, as I was anxious to
arrive among those tribes where I had understood there was
something which would amply compensate me for all my diffi-
culties, toils and dangers, f had travelled about two thousand
miles, through an almost impassable wilderness, and I felt anxious
to obtain something which would compensate me for all my suf-
ferings.

This country abounds in mines and other natural riches, and
is abundantly furnished with every thing which could give peace
and plenty to the heart of man, and that too without any of his
labour.

About twelve o'clock it cleared away, and the sun shone
with brilliancy. The season had now become mild and serene,
and I was rapidly advancing into that climate which breathes
perpetual spring ; the birds sang with the sweetest^melody, the
trees yielded a rich perfume, and scattered their fragrance over
a thousand hills. Having travelled about twenty-five miles, we
encamped for the night.

^ In the morning we were much put to it for the want of provi-
sion, this article having become scarce within a few days. We
had proceeded about five miles when we opened upon a rich
meadow, and perceived a small herd of elk grazing, who had
not yet observed us ; they were the first I had seen during my
tra?efc, and I felt anxious to get a shot at them. I directed

JVature and Providence.

516

Kdom to dismount and hold both our horses, whilst 1 advanced
cautiously along on my hands and knees : I loaded my gun and
pistol, and taking the edge of the woods> crept slowly along
for about two hundred yards, keeping my eye constantly on
the herd which did not observe me; judging I was near enough,
I levelled my piece and brought one of them to the ground,
and the others ran off with astonishing rapidity. 1 advanced
to the one I had killed, and found him fat and fit for roast-
ing.

We had now a sufficiency of provision, which would enable
ns to travel some days ; and 1 felt anxious to arrive among a
tribe of Indians, from whom I expected to receive valuable in-
formation. I found by examining my maps that I had already
deviated a considerable distance from the direct road to Mexico ;
and owing to the troubles which were daily taking place in that
fine country, f determined to take a circuitous route, and ex-
plore the western part of that country which borders on Mexico,
previous to entering the Mexican empire.

We pursued our journey until we came to a broad stream,
over which we swam our horses, and entered into a cooutry
which was more mountainous and woody than any 1 had seen :
the wood principally consisted of black ash, sycamore, black
walnut, hickory, and lofty magnolias ; indeed this is the common
growth of the country, although there are many other sorts,
but not in plenty. Among the number which 1 saw was the
cork tree, some of which were very large, and I presume they
would be found quite as valuable as those of Europe, as some
of them were larger than any I had seen in Spain. We en-
camped at night, after having come about twenty-five miles.

In the morning 1 was awaked by Edom, who informed me
that he heard a lioise as of some one singing. I immediately
arose, and made such preparations as were necessary, fearing
I should have to contend with an enemy. As it was daylight,
I thought it best to pursue our journey. We had not gone far
when 1 perceived a smoke, which appeared to be at no great
distance, and exactly in our track. 1 examined my rifle and
pistol, putting myself iu readiness to meet an enemy. In a few
minutes an opening in the trees discovered to me two Indians,
who had not yet seen us. >Ve advanced with caution, being
fearful oi giving alarm ; in a few minutes they perceived us,
and seemed much struck with surprise. I held out my hand,
and endeavoured by signs to convince them that I was friendly
disposed. I dismounted my horse, and advanced towards
them : they eyed me with distrust, but did not attempt to run
away. When I came near 1 offered my hand, which one of
them advancing took hold of. seeming much pleased with me.

516

The Ifonders of

1 now conversed with them by signs, endeavouring to learn
wj2 far it was to the next tribe of Indians, and to what tribe
they belonged ; tbey told me their tribe was distant three day's
journey, and was the nearest tribe by many miles ; that they had
been out a hunting, and were now returning home. I found to. ^
my surprise that I had deviated a considerable distance from the
course I had intended to steer, which was owing, as I afterwards
found, to my compass varying considerably They told me if I
would wait until they had examined their buffalo traps, tbey
would conduct me to their chief, who was- a good o^ld man and a
great warrior. I immediately consented, and they set about ar-
ranging their hunting apparatus and preparing to return.

I found they had killed about fourteen buffalo, nine bears,
and three elk ; the natives inform me that these last animals are
caught with difficulty ; and it is very seldom they get more than
three or four of them during the season. The buffalo are nu-
merous, and more' easily ensnared ; their manner of taking them
is singular and worthy of description.

The traps are composed of trees laid one upon another, to
the height of about six feet, forming a square of -about fifty
feet on each side. On that side where they intend the animal
shall enter, a quantity of earth is laid, to the height of the con-
struction, so as to form an easy ascent of about twenty feet. A
number of branches of trees are placed from each side of the
front, in a straight line from the raised hill, for about one hun-
dred feet in length, continually increasing in width, so that the
exterior end exceeds two hundred feet. A number of pobs
about sixteen feet in length are placed at about fourteen feet
from each other, with a piece of buffalo dung on the top, and
in a straight line from the boughs above mentioned. At the
foot of these poles, the hunter always lies concealed to keep
the animal in a straight direction, being wrapped in a buffalo
skin. These poles are placed alike on each side, always in-
creasing in breadth from one side to the other, and decreasing
as the animal approaches the pound. When these traps are
thus made, the hunters set off and find a herd of buffalo, which
they drive easily along till they arrive in the vicinity of the
pound; then one of them advances and clothes himself in a
buffalo skin, waiting .{he approach of the herd, and endeavour-
ing to keep them in a proper direction. By this means they
are conducted within the exterior line of poles ; if any attempt
to go out, which is frequently the case, they are prevented bv
the hunters' shaking the buffalo hides, which drives them for-
Vird; so that at last they arrive at the pound, and fall head-
long one upon another, some breaking their necks, backs, &c;

Nature %nd Ifrovidencj?,

5 17'

mid now the confusion becomes general, and although the*
pound is no more than six feet high, none will make their escape.

"On the morning of the next day, the Indians being ready, we
commenced our journey, and proceeded through a thick forest
of tall and stately trees, after which we opened upon an exten-
sive plain. We saw nothing worth mentioning, anu at night
encamped, having come thirty miles.

The Indians told me they Were of the Miiacdous tribe; that
they had been out about twelve days, and that they were return-
ing on account of a grand hunting match, which they said was
given in consequence of the marriage of their chiefs daughter.

The next morning we started early, and had proceeded a con-
siderable distance, when Edom's horse became so lame that it
was with difficulty he could get along. Understanding that
there were plenty of horses in their tribe, I thought it best to
leave our lame one, and mount Edom behind one of the Indians,
who had offered to take him up. This being arranged, we
proceeded along through fine level plains, which abounded in
all the fruits common to this country. At night we encamped,
having come about twenty-eight miles.

The country through which we now passed was level, boun-
ded on both sides by hills, which gradually swell into mountains
which are clothed to their very tops with verdure. The soil
was a rich black loam, and in some places a clayey kind of
earth, which appeared well calculated for grain of any kind.

In the course of this day's journey 1 picked up some pieces
of mica and some quartz, which are not common in this part of
the country. The uatives informed me that there were stones
of a shining appearance and ve ry hard, in a mountain about a
day's journey from their village ; this mountain I was determin-
ed to visit, and t6 examine the stones for myself, if I could
obtain the consent of the natives.

The next morning the Indians awaked me early, and we pro-
ceeded on our journey without any thing remarkable taking-
place, until after we entered a defile of the mountains, where we
found the road very bad, and were under the necessity of lead-
ing our horses. About 4 o'clock we came up to the village,
where We were received by all the natives, who were drawn out
to see us; from the curiosity that was excited, I judged that a
great part of them had never seen a white man before. They
conducted me to their chief, who 1 found habitedin a deer skin,
which w as thrown over his shoulders, with a head dress of feath-
ers, and ear-rings made of bone. He received me very cour-
teously, and after shaking me by the hand, enquired by sigus
from whence I came. I gave him to understand that I had come
a great ways from the southeast, and was going towards a na-

The Wonders of

tion of whites, at a great distance off. He seemed satisfied will*
ray answers, and directed me to a hut where I found plenty of
refreshments.

My negro underwent a much closer investigation ; he ww
lire first one they had ever seen, and amused them not a little.
They would go up to him, feel of his hair, face, and hands, aod
by rubbing endeavour to get off some of the black ; when they
found this impossible, tbey would go off a great distance, set
up a loud laugh, and dance up to him with great good humour.
The old chief called him into his tent, and would have made
him sleep at his feet, had not Edom told him he must keep with
his master and take care of him, to which the old chief very
readily consented.

The nation were all busy in their preparations for a bant,
which was to take place in a few days, and in which all the
great men and warriours were to be engaged. It was given, as
1 was made to understand, in consequence of a marriage which
had been solemnized a few days before, between tire principal
warrior of the tribe, and the chiePs daughter.. The warrior was
a tall stout, well made Indian, of a rather lighter complexion
than the others, which I was told was occasioned by his being
born of a woman who did not belong to their tribe ; it being
customary among them to adopt the prisoners taken in war,
and marry them the same as their own children. He was cal-
led scalper, which upon inquirj' I found was a name he had as-
sumed since he became a man, it being customary for them to
have a name given, which they are under the necessity of re-
taining until they perform some exploit either in hunting or war
which will entitle them to take a new name, when they are ad-
mitted into the council of warriors with great ceremony. They
choose what name they please, which generally has some refer- I
-ence to a distinguished action they have performed. This roan '
was called scalper, on account of his having taken sixty-three
scalps in one day from a notion with whom they were at war.

The girl appeared about sixteen, and was handsomer than
any I had before seen ; she had an expression of melancholy in
her countenance, which induced me to think she was not entire-
ly happy in her new husband ; and he had a savage look which
was far from. being pleasing, and more so than the natives of
this tribe gc:— ally have.

On themoruhi£ ' - ■'"«??•• !■ , ! \ \ after my arrival, being the
16th of July, 18.12, they sat out on their hunting excursion. —
The party consisted of all the chief warriors and young men of
five of their principal towns, and amounted in all to about one
thousand. They were armed with spears and arrows. Their
spears were about fourteen feet in length, made of a kind of wood

Nature and Providence.

6l'9

which I did not know the name of; the tree grows to thcheigbt
of five and twenty feet, and has small sharp pointed leaves.—
The spears are pointed at the end with bone, which is very sharp
and smooth. Their arrows are made of white oak, about six
feet long, and those used for hunting are blunted, so as not to in*
Jure the skin of those birds they kill ; those used for war are
pointed, and dipped in a poisonous kind of liquor.

We had about eight miles to go to the place where they ex-
pected to find their game, which was through a wood, thick and
almost impassable. At last we arrived in the neighbourhood
of a pond about a mile in extent, around which the land was
clear ; in the middle of the lake there was a small island, which
was thickly studded with woods, and where there was plenty of
game ; but there were no canoes, and I waited with impatience
to see in what manner they would kill their game at the distance
of an hundred and fifty yards, and where the birds had the be-
nefit of thick trees to shade them from their enemies. I soon
found that in this consisted the principal art and amusement of
their hunting parties ; for whoever could strike a deer or kill a
bird at that distance, was considered a great hunter, and re-
ceived the loudest applause.

I had brought my musket, which in fact was never out of my
hands day nor night, and I judged I should be enabled not only
to amuse the natives, but to give them a high opinion of my con-
sequence. I had not as yet fired my gun, and I judged very
few of these Indians had ever seen fire arms before. They made
several attempts with their arrows and spears, which though di-
rected with great exactness, were nevertheless unsuccessful. I
now had a fine opportunity of showing my dexterity, as a deer of
the largest size came to the beach to drink ; several arrows were
discharged, which did not reach their object, nor alarm him. I
levelled my gun, and as he raised his head, fired ; he fell, and tbe
noise of the piece rolled along the hills, and re-echoed from ev-
ery cavern. I looked around me, but not an Indian was to be
seen ; they had fled with precipitation. At last the old chief
ventured to make his appearance, and after contemplating me
for some time, advanced and asked me if the Great Spirit was
any more angry. I felt my risible faculties so strongly excited
by this question, that I had much difficulty in keeping from
laughing. I assured him he had nothing to fear, and directed
him to call his companions. In a few minutes they all appear-
ed, but with astonishment marked in their countenances; they
approached me with caution, and kept a suspicious eye upon
my gun. I now directed Edom to go and bring the stag, and
three of the Indians offered their services to assist him. In
about a quarter of an hour they £Ot him over, and it was some-

520 The Wonders ef

time before the Indians could find where he had received the
wound. The chief requested to take my gun, which I lent
him, and be examined it very attentively ; lie then handed it to
his son-in-law, who, after viewing it for some time, returned it
to me, telling me by signs, I must fire again. I accordingly
loaded my gun, and in a few minutes, seeing four ducks on the
wing, fired, and brought three of them down ; when I fired, the
Indians all stopped their ears and shut their eyes.

After getting the ducks, the chief directed the hunters to
move on to an open plain, and there to hunt the buffalo ; this
was to be done on horses, some going on one side, and some on
the other, -whilst those that remained in the rear were to keep
the game from escaping. The chase soon began, and was con-
ducted with great skill by the Indians, who were armed with i
long spear, and rode without a saddle. This manner of taking
game, however, is not so safe nor so quick as with the traps, sod
is never practiced but upon particular occasions, when they
wish to show their horsemanship, which is far from being con-
temptible.

I was informed by the chief that they had a much larger vil-
lage near the mountain than the one we were now in, and I feh
anxious to see it. I accordingly obtained leave from the chief
to visit it. He sent an Indian with me, with orders to the chief
of the village to use me well and take special care of my pro-
perty.

I had understood from Dr. Sibley, when I was in Natchito-
cher, that a number of travellers in our western territories had
asserted, that there was a strong similarity between the Indian
language, and many words of the Welch, which had led to
conjectures that it was probable they had descended from emi-
grants from that country, many years before its discovery by
Columbus. I had been very careful in my inquiries among the
different tribes I had occasion to visit ; but had obtained no sa-
tisfaction as yet relative to so important a point.

When I arrived in this village I perceived something which
struck me very forcibly as being different from an}' thing I had
before seen in any Indian town ; and being always attentive to
things which had a singular appearance, I set about making such
observations as would lead to a discovery of the cause. There
is a striking similarity between their customs and those of the
JV elch ; exclusive of this, they have printed books among them,
which are.preserved with great care, they have a tradition that
they were brought there by their forefathers.

Besides this, many of their customs are very similar ; their
marriage ceremonies, for instance, which I had'an opportunity
of seeing. After the coup!? aro married, a spot of ground is se-

I

JYatuct and Providence. &£1

lected, and each one of the male relations contribute in forming
a hut for the young couple, while the care of furnishing it is left
to the female relations. In their funeral ceremonies there is
something which approaches near to that of the Welch. Each
one of the kindred carry the corpse a short .distance, and then
addressing the deceased, they ask if they have ever failed to do
tbeir duty towards him. Now, these circumstances, I am well
aware, are not conclusive testimony, but the similarity is very
striking. In the marriages of the Welch, according to the Rev.
Dr. Bingley, they make a collection to defray the expenses of
the occasion, and aid the new married couple ; in their funerals,
it 16 customary after prayer for four of the nearest kin to the
corpse to carry it to the grave. 1 did not understand the Welch
language, or I should have been enabled to have thrown more
light upon so interesting a subject. The books appeared very
old, and were evidently printed at a time when there had been
very little improvement made in the casting of types. I ob-
tained a few leaves from one of the chiefs, sufficient to have
thrown light on the subject ; but in my subsequent disputes
with the Indians IJost them, and all my endeavours to obtain
more were ineffectual.

Upon my return to N-ichitoches, communicating the above in-
formation to some gentlemen whom I met at Dr. Sibley's, one
of them assured me that about two years before he conversed
with a Welcfr gentleman who had been employed by the Hud-
son bay company, and had been recently in the vicinity of the
Red river, that he there met Indians whose dialect he well un-
derstood ; whose women were much fairer than ordinary, and
many of whose customs agreed with those of his own country ;
that he too had been shown a printed book, but could not read
it, owing as he thought to its being of so ancient a date ; all his
attempts to procure it were ineffectual.

I offer these accounts to the public without any comments ;
they are vague, and in many parts unsatisfactory ; but certain
it is, if these are facts, it demands the serious investigation of
the curious atid learned relative to the reasons which cause man-
kind to degenerate when left to themselves.

The only historical information which serves to throw any
light upon the subject, is an account given by Mr. Powell, in
his History of Wales, which relates, that in the twelfth century,
Madoc, the youngest son of Madoc ap Shenkin, weary of cou- ^.
tending for his father's crown, left his country, and sailed from
Wales a due west course till he discovered an unknown coun-
try. That he afterwards returned, and made such favourable
report of the land as induced numbers to embark with him.— *

522

The Wonders of

He returned again to his country, and sailed a third time, and
lias never been heard of since.

For some days after my arrival I was quite unwell, which was
the only sickness I had experienced for some months. 1 found
the chief with whom 1 now lived a man about forty years of
age, stout , and well made, though not tall ; he was married, and
had three children, all daughters. One of his daughters was
married to a young warrior who had been wounded in batik
and had not yet recovered. He told me that many moons agt
there came among them a white man, who wished to stay aal
become oqe of them ; that they gave him a wife ; that be wis
now living, but gone on a hunting party. I felt anxious to see
this man, as much from curiosity as any thing ; for what ra-
tional being, thought I, who had been accustomed to the sweeu
of civilixed society, would wish to leave their haunts and join a
horde of savages.

In my observations on the women, I perceived some very be
pieces of metal which looked like platina ; 1 enquired of the na-
tives where they got it, but could get no satisfactory answer, ai
they always appeared to evase the question whenever it was
put to them. 1 nevertheless determined to discover it if pota-
ble, as the value of the discovery would amply repay me far all
my dangers and disappointments*

These Indians, although they did not seem acquainted with
white men, yet appeared to understand that the primary cans*
of all the misfortunes which had attended the aboriginal inha-
bitants, was their having mines in their country which wen
sought after by the whites. Fearing that they might fall a prey
to this avarice and rapacity, they had determined to keep their
mines a secret and discover them to no one ; I however, trust-
ed still to chance, and as I saw enough of the metal and other
circumstances to convince me there were mines in their tribe,
and that too of considerable extent, I was determined to remain
*Umong them for some time at least, in order to discover them.

I found it would be necessary, in order to remain among them
without suspicion, that I should feign myself sick ; accordingly
one night about 1 2 o'clock I sent for the old chief, and appeared
in violent distress. I told him I was unwell, and requested
something which would relieve my pain. He immediately coo- !
menced rubbing my temples, applying warm stones to my feet,
and endeavoured to get me into a profuse perspiration. After !
about half an hour's attendance, finding I was easier, he left me,
but in the morning returned, attended by one of the priests,
who acted as a physician; he took out of a small bag some dried
leaves, which he pulverized very fine in his hand ;. then taking a
small piece of fat of a she bear, he mixed it very carefully to-
gether, until it became a very fine salve. When ttns was don*

bis

\m made a fire in the hut, and heated some water by throwing
gones into it j after it was sufficiently hot, he threw in a quan-
xty of herbs and covered it over with a piece of bear skin. —
He now drew me towards the fire, and after stripping off my
diirt, he anointed my back with the ointment he had made, rub-
Jtng it with such violence as to force drops of sweat from my
ace. He now opened a gourd which contained some tea, and
rave me to drink plentifully of it ; this threw me into a prp-
!pse sweat.. I felt a drowsiness, and in a few minutes after be
bad left me I fell into a profound sleep.

When I awoke I found myself much weakened, and on my
Utempting to stir I was so sore as rendered it impossible. In a
few minutes the chief and the doctor entered who enquired how
[ did, I assured him I was better, but complained of being very
lore. He then looked at my back, and . without saying one
word, applied more ointment. I expostulated, but all in vain ;
Me seemed to pay no regard to my entreaties, and by the next
(Horning I found my back as raw as a piece of beef, which con-
bed me to my hut for about three weeks. During my confine*
ment, the chief and the doctor visited me constantly, and seem-
ed by their attentions to be anxious for my recovery, although
vhen I complained of my back they would shrug up their shoul-
Jers, and smile at each other.

During the time of my confinement I saw no one but the old
nan, the priest, wher acted as doctor, and my faithful negro. —
[ understood that the white man had returned from hunting, but
was not permitted to see him until my recovery ; this was very
dow, owing to the extreme soreness of my back, for the salve
which my doctor made use of had drawn more violently than
my of our cantharides.

In about three weeks I was allowed to leave my hut, which
was atteuded with some ceremony, in the evening the young
women assembling and dancing before my hut as a sign of joy
at my recovery. The next morning I was conducted to a hut
in which sat a number of Indians, and after remaining there
some time was asked if I did not see any one who looked like
a white man. I now examined every one with attention, but
could sle no one who appeared different from the Indians. At
last the man arose, took mv by the hand, and spoke to me in
English, render. ^ almost unintelligible? by disuse. I answered
him, aud in mediately the Indians left us. His emotions were
violent, pnd a tear stood in his eyes as he grasped my hand and
asked me |ipw Ion*? ;t was since 1 left the United States. I in-
formed him, and after we had conversed a short time on uninte-
resting subjects, perceiving me to look at bira with an eye of cu-
riosity, he told me that he would readily tell me what bad iadu-»

The Won dm of

ccd him to leave civilized society, if I would promise not to tell
the Indians, nor shun him while I remained among them ; to thi*
I agreed, and he seated himself and began as follows :

" My name is Davis ; I was born in one of the northern states,
but shall avoid particularizing where, as my relatives have long
thought me dead. My parents, in my early days, endeavoured
to instil on my mind the sentiments of religion, and gave me
such an education as their circumstances would permit. My
temper was violent, and even in my young j*ears would break
out with such fury, as ai times to alarm my father and mother.
They would expostulate with me, and endeavour to convince
me of my error: but 1 seldom listened to their admonitions, and
would frequently, as soon as they were out of sight, make game
of them, and turn their good advice into ridicule. It was my
disobedience and contempt of my parents commands, which hid
the foundation of all my future misfortunes.

" At an early age I left my parents and went to sea. I had
not been out but about twelve days when a violent storm arose,
which in a few hours reduced our vessel to such a wreck as made
it necessary for us to take the boat. In this situation we drifted
about for three days, when we were picked up by an English
sloop of war, and immediately seized upon and compelled to do
duty on board this vessel. I shall pass over the hardships and
difficulties I encountered while in this service, which continued
for eighteen months; at the end of this time, while in the West
Indiefcf I found means to escape, and arrived in the U. States.
My parents received me as one risen from the dead, and fredy
forgave me all the tears and anxiety I had caused them.

"My minJ was softened by the caresses and kind expressions
which [ received from my parents, and when 1 contrasted it with
the late cruel treatment I had received on board of British
ships, I resolved never to offend or grieve them more. For some
time I kept my resolutions; but alns, the instability of all bo-
man resolutions; those caresses which had made me resolve to
conduct with propriety, and govern my temper, were soon treat-
ed with contempt, and too oftrn 1 repaid their expressions oi
kindness with rudeness and disdain.

"1 now paid my addresses to a young woman of the most ami-
able temper, who lived about a mile from my father's. She
was handsome ; and what was more, her mind was cultivated,
her temper sweet, and she possessed all those qualities which
adorn her sex, and render them a blessing to mankind. My
mother saw my attachment with approbation, and felt anxious
that I might attain a woman of so swee t a temper, in hopes that
it would soften and ameliorate my own; alas! little did she
think of the wretchedness it would bring upon one who was
worthy of having her path strewed with flowers.

Nature and Providence.

™ In a short time after we were married, my temper, which
had kept within bounds, broke out with renewed violence, and
seemed to have gained fresh strength from having been so long
smothered. My wife bore it with meekness and resignation, and
if ever she murmured it was in secret ; when before me, her
face was always clad in smiles, or that gloomy sadness which
would have melted anv heart hut mine, which was steeled against
all the feelings of humanity.

" We lived six years in this manner, in which time we had
two children ; they were lovely as their mother, and seemed to
inherit all her good qualities. My temper grew worse, if it were
possible, and at length my wife told me in mild terms, that if I
continued to conduct myself in such a manner, she should be
under the necessity of leaving me ; at this I flew at her with
violence, and gave her several blows, which she bore with meek-
ness : my oldest child came accidentally between us, and re-
ceived a blow which laid it dead at my feet. All the feelings of
the mother were now roused ; she called me an inhuman wretch,
the murderer of my child, and threatened to have me made a
public example. This roused me from the stupor into which I
bad sunk on seeing my child dead at my feet, and I determined
at once to rid myself of the only one who could possibly bring
me to punishment ; I seized her by the hair, and in a few min-
utes she was no more."

Here he stopped, overcome with his emotion, and covered his
face with both his hands. 1 was so much shocked and surpri-
sed that it was impossible for me to ask him to proceed, or even
to utter a syllable. At length he recovered, and taking me by
the hand, asked me if I did not think him a wretch who ought to
be banished from all society and ranked among the brutes. —
Before I had time to reply, he exclaimed in a wild and frantic
manner, " I know you do, and had you known my beloved Ma-
ria you would call me the greatest monster that ever lived : she
loved me with tenderness, and sought every opportunity of
calming my temper and rendering me happy ; but I wilfully re-
fused to be pleased, and took pleasure in- contradicting and ren-
dering unhappy the best woman in the world."

As soon as he became sufficiently composed, I requested him
to inform me how he came among these Indians : he told me that
he immediately left the house, after securing the doors, taking
with him what cash he had on hand, his youngest child having
been left at his father's some days before. He took passage on
board a vessel bound to New-York, which sailed at 12 o'clock
and had a very quick passage. On his arrival he went on board,
a vessel bound to New-Orleans, which sailed the next day. Af-
ter his arrival at New-Orleans, he engaged with some men whu

The Wonitn of

were about ascending the Mississippi. On his arrival at the
Red fiver lie left them, and proceeded till he found this nation,
who had given him a friendly reception, and among whom he
had continued ever since.

Having heard him with attention until he had finished his sto-
ry, 1 thought it my duty before I left him to endeavour to con-
vince him that his present course of life was not calculated to
render him happy here or hereafter. I therefore seriously ex-
postulated with him, and 'assured him of the mercy which was
always extended to those who were truly penitent, and who,
with the humble publican, approached the mercy seat with this
prayer, " God be merciful to me a sinner." You may now be
enabled, said I, by a variety of employments, to drive the
thoughts of a future state from your mind, and for a time to
become indifferent about your immortal interests ; but this wiH
not always be the case ; the period is approaching in which con-
science, if not quite petrified, will be roused from her torpor —
in which she will sound the alarm, and the soul, awakened fron
its sleep, feel the vanity of all that is terrestrial. For what are
all the pleasures of sense to you, who are conscious of the de-
pravity of your heart, and sensible of having heinously deviated
from the path of duty — of having passed your life heedless qf
the counsels of parental affection, or such as experience or reli-
gion dictated. It is indeed possible that your mind may be di-
verted from a minute attention to the turpitude of its own ac-
tions, but the delusion will not last forever ; a man cannot al-
ways trifle ; the hour of reflection will obtrude ; and if you be
determined not to anticipate, you will shortly be compelled to
realize the period when deception and artifice will be impracti-
cable ; when all terrestrial scenes will be withdrawn ; when the
soul, no longer soothed by flattery, nor seduced by hope, must
converse with death ; and this too in a moment when the ave-
nues of mercy are closed forever, and in which your affrighted
soul will have to exclaim in the terrors of despair, " the harvest
is past, the summer is ended, and I am not saved."

He thanked me for my advice, and seemed much affected. I
felt a depression of spirits which it was impossible for me to
overcome, and after assuring him I would not impart it to the In-
dians, I departed for my hut, being unable any longer to bear a
conversation with him. When I entered my hut I found the
old chief, who had been waiting for me sometime ; he examined
my back, which he found doing very well, and in a few minutes
after he left me.

I had bean about two months with this tribe, during which time
1 had made vain endeavours to discover where their mine of
platina was; all my endeavours to obtain information from the ,

JVoture grid ¥*widtnc'ei

(&7

natives had not been attended with success. I coucluded the
white man would be the most likely to be won over to impart
to me the place where the mine was, and for this purpose I re-
solved to gaiu his confidence by such presents as it was in my
power to give, and were most likely to meet his attention.

In a few days I gave him a kpife, some strings of beads, and
showed him a quantity of specie, which 1 told him was at his
service ; at the same time drawing him artfully into a conversa-
tion relative to the mine of platina showing him a small piece
I bad procured from one of the natives, and requesting him
to give me such information as was in his power respecting it.

He hesitated for some time, and at last observed, that if it
was known to the uatives that he had told me, death, and that
of the most horrid kind, would be the consequence. I assured
him he had nothing to fear on that account, as I should be so
cautious in all my proceedings as to render it impossible for
me to be discovered. He at last consented, telling me that
the Indians only worked it occasionally, that it was situated a-
bout twenty miles southwest of the towu ; that if 1 had a mind
to go he would conduct me, but it would be necessary for us
to start in the morning before daylight, that the natives might
Dot discover us ; I consented, and the next morning was appoint-
ed for U6 to commence our excursion.

During the remainder of the day, I arranged my affairs, and
cleaned my rifle and pistol. I directed Edom, in case any of
the natives should make particular enquiry in the morning for
me, to tell them I had gone out, a thing that was customary,
but would return in the course of the day.

I arose the next morning about two o'clock, and being joined
by Davis, we commenced our journey. We travelled with great
caution and silence until we got out of the village, and then
struck into a path which led through the woods, and wound
around the foot of the mountain. The road soon began to
grow steep and difficult ; huge and craggy rocks, whose sharp
points tore our clothes and lacerated our bodies, formed a prin-
cipal part of the road. We proceeded with the greatest dif-
ficulty, leading our horses, and clambering over steep precipi-
ces that were formed by the fissures of the rocks. After a
tedious journey we arrived at the top of one of the moun-
tains which form this chain, and my guide now informed me
we were within a short distance of the object of my pursuit*
We sat down and rested ourselves for some time ; and when the
sun arose, hastened to explore the mine before wc should be
missed by the natives. We soon arrived at its mouth, and be-
gan to descend. I found that the natives had uot worked it
very deep. It was situated at the top of one of those mountains

Tke Wanders of

which skirt the village; the mountain is very flat for near a
quarter of a mile, and covered with a rich long grass, which
is enamelled with a thousand flowers. The vein extends from
west to east, and is so rich that by working around the platina
with a knife large pieces of it may be taken out. Indeed, it
would never have been worked by the natives had not thit
been the case ; for they have no implements suitable for
working the mines, nor any idea of what is necessary.

I took several pieces of the metal, which 1 found to' be purer
than any I had before seen. Davis begged me to conceal it in
such a manner as that it would not be discovered by the natives,
and I assured him I should bury it on my return to my hut.

We returned by the same way we had come, making all pos-
sible haste for fear the natives would miss us and suspect where
we had gone. We had just cleared the mountain, and were
travelling slowly along the common path, when we were met
by two Indians who were goiug a fishing. On being told we
had been a hunting they passed us without suspicion, and 1
reached my hut in safety, where I deposited my booty, and set
about making arrangements for another visit to the mine.

The next morning it rained with violence ; the storm continu-
ed for four or five days, during which time 1 had no opportuni-
ties of visiting the mine, but employed the time in arranging
my papers, and making particular observations on the manners
and customs of the natives, the construction of their huts, &c.
The white Indian visited mc very constantly, and conversed
on several topics with ease. As he spoke the Indian language
with fluency, he was of great help to me in all my communica-
tions with the natives, among whom he had considerable influ-
ence. He appeared to be a man of good information, and
would many times converse with gaiety and good humour. He
nevertheless would frequently be sunk in the greatest despon-
dency, and set with his eyes fixed on the ground for hours ; he
would then start from his seat, rush into the thickest part of
the woods, and remain for the rest of the day. The Indians
ceased to be surprised at his conduct, and the" old chief told me
that they thought him troubled by the Great Spirit ; I was ol
their opinion, for he must have felt the gnawings of a guilty
conscience, which is to use the emphatical language of Scrip-
ture, " the worm that never dies."

As soon as the weather became tine I made a journey to the
mine. The plan I adopted was this : as soon as the Indians re-
tired to rest, myself and Kdom would sally forth, and taking
our horses which were grazing near the skirts of the town, pro-
«wd with a quick pare til! <ve rent-hod the foot of th« mountain

JV aturcjind Providence.

£29

where the mine lay, leave our horses and proceed on foot ; and
tve generally succeeded in returning by daylight.
. The white Indian had never been with me to the mine since
the first time, and never attempted to converse with me on the
subject ; he would generally visit me once a day. He came in
one morning abont ten o'clock, unperceived by me as I was em-
ployed in writing ; he stood some time, and when I turned and
discovered him, his countenance was visibly altered from its
common appearance ; his large eyes glared with unusual fierce-
ness, and his whole appearance betrayed emotions of the most
violent kind. As soon as he saw I noticed him, he advanced,
and endeavoured to converse ; but lie was evidently embarrass-
ed, and in a short time retired.

In the evening myself and Edom again started for the mine ;
we had now made three journeys, and judging I had as much as
we could conveniently earn', was deterihined this should be the
last.

I arrived at the mouth of the mine and was preparing to de-
scend, when Edom exclaimed that he saw some one among the
long grass which covered the mountain. I immediately seized
my rifle, but before I could get it in a position to defend myself,
I was surrounded by about fifty Indians, who immediately seiz-
ed my gun and bound me with thongs of buflalo skin. Edom
was less fortunate, for attempting to make some resistance, they
knocked him on the head, and would in all probability have
dispatched him had it not been for the positive command of a
chief who had orders to bring us alive before the principal
council.

We were conducted with much silence, the Indians scarcely
speaking a word. I- attempted several times to converse with
the chief who conducted us, but was always commanded to keep
silence. Wc were conducted by a nearer path than the one
by which we came, and in a short time arrived at the village.
They put me in a different hut from the one I had occupied, and
placed a strong guard at the door. I had here full leisure to
reflect upon my situation, and expected that nothing but the
most lingering death awaited me.

In the morning I was taken from the hut and examined by the
principal chiefs, who were seated around a lire at the door of
the old chief's hut. Not a person w»s to be seen but the In-
dians who guarded me. and the chiefs u!u> formed the council.
Profound silence reigned, when the old chief began his inter-
rogations. He first inquired the cause of my going to the moun-
tain ; I told him 1 had been a hunting a few days before, when
I had accidentally discovered some metal, and not knowing
what it was I had gone hack to get some and sec what was its

530

The iroiid^of

value. — The old chief shook hi* head, and seemed not satisfied
with the answer. . I was asked several other questions, which
principally related to leaving my country, reasons for travelling
among them, &c. I answered all of them as well as I could, and
after being about an hour in their presence they conducted me
again to my hut.

The next day I was permitted to remain where I was. I re-
quested leave to see the white Indian, which they denied me,
alleging as an excuse, that he was sick, and could not see me;
my man Edom was however brought to the hut, who assured
me that he was free, as the Indians thought that he was not
guilty, and would not have gone had it not been for me.

On the morning of the third day I was conducted from my
hut to the great square, where I found every inhabitant of the
village who was over fourteen years of age. In the centre of
the square sat the same chiefs who tried me a few days before:
on one side stood all the girls of the village, and on the other all
the warriors, who were armed with bows and arrows.

I was now brought forward v and the old chief addressed me.
charging me with a wish to destroy their nation by tempting
white men to come amotfg them ; he charged me with falsehood
in telling them that ii was the first time I had been at the mine,
as 1 had more platina in my hut than could be brought away at
once ; he uncovered a heap that lay at one end of the stage,
and showed me all I had brought from the mine ; he then told
me ||)at I must prepare for death as I should be shot iu about
an hour.

My feelings cannot be described when this information wa>
communicated to me ; but it was grateful to me to see that the
greater part of the Indians, particularly the females, were mucb
affected at the severity of the sentence ; indeed I had conducted
myself with such strict propriety, and made the natives such n
number of little presents that there was not one who had any
ill will towards me.

I requested to see. Edom, and he was conducted towards me.
When the poor fellow understood I was to be shot, lie could
scarce keep within the bounds of reason ; he tore his liair, threw
-himself upon the ground, and it was some time before 1 oould in-
duce him to hearken to me ; at last he became more calm. I told
him he must endeavour to get back to New-Orh ans, on my ac-
count, as I wanted. him to carry information to my friends; I
told him that after my death he must collect such articles as
were allowed him of mine, particularly, my papers, and deliver
them to Dr. Fludcar ; he promised me lie would. I then re-
quested him to leave me, as my time was short, and I had some

Nature and Providence.

preparation to make before I went hence to " that bourne from
whence no traveller returns."

He now left me, and I turned my attention to that Being in
whose hands are the " issues of life and death." • Although I
had by no means been faithful to the divine commands, and had,
in common with all mankind gone far from the path which is
marked out by strict rectitude and propriety, I nevertheless
knew he was a God who cast none oft' in the hour that they ap-
proached his footstool, and humbly asked forgiveness of their
transgressions ; for who was to set bounds to Infinite Mercy ?
or wfypre is the humble, contrite penitent, who went away from
the temple of Omnipotence, without receiving some token of the
Divine favour ? I prayed with fervency, relying entirely on God
for protection, knowing it was in his power to work out my de-
liverance ; and if it was thought necessary for me to bow my
head to the king of terrors, I exclaimed with the divine Jesus,
" Thy will not mine be done."

J arose from my devotions with calmness, and awaited the de-
' terminations of my judges. In a few minutes the chief arose,
and by a motion of his hand, announced the lime had arrived
when I was to be led to execution ; they advene A bound
my hand.-; with thongs ; they then led me to . . fasten-
ed me to it by another thong ; six of the . ' re arranged
in front of me, ready to draw their if row. f»?ad and pierce

mc to the heart. At this moment a ciic" occurred." as

unlooked'for by me, as it was svirri* : '.-.vstiug.

The moment that the arrows their heads, and

the Indians ready to execute xu- 'v- • .'tentv-, the youngest
daughter of the principal ....m. with dignity in her

step*, ei.d stop;v.n£; before t.;e Indians, waved her haud for them
to des^t. ' The hows were immediately bent to the ground. —
She then advanced toward* me, and cutting the thong which
bound me to the stake, wiih a knife I had given her a few days
before, she led .me forward to the plaiform on which the chiefs
sat ; she then a l«!re. sed them with earnestness, fiequently point-
ing to me and then to the snn. After she had continued for
some time in this manner, the old chief arose, and spoke a few
words, when the Indians shouted and danced with great vio-
lence. TIkv wouhJ have advanced towards me had not the
chief in i loud and vommanding tone ordered them to desist
and reiire to their huts ; ti is they did with reluctance. When
they had gone, m \ rVe1 orer took me by the hand, and led me
to !.c r hut ; she l ive *r; ?.?:ne refreshment, but.tetd we I mur*.
depart on the next evening. I was vety gUtKto hear this, and
told her I should cheerfully comply with any thing she should

f)$2, The Honders •/' f

• * i

deem proper. The exertions of the day had much fatigued me,
and I felt happy to be left alone.

It is impossible to describe the joy of Edom at my deliver-
ance from almost ceitain death : he had stood at a short dis-
tance from me, and beheld with silent despair the arrows which
were to deprive him for ever of my guidance and direction ; and
he beheld with the most lively satisfaction the manner in which
1 had been resetted. *

It may be necessary for me to account in some manner for
the detection which caused all my present misfortunes. It will
be recollected that 1 mentioned my being seen writing by the
white man ; he seemed much surprised at it, and 1 observed
that in his communications with me afterwards he was not so
free as before. He once asked me what I had been wrhing ;
I told him it was a memorandum which I kept of my journey,
and showed some parts of it ; this rendered him still more
gloomy, and for some time before my being taken up he had
avoided visiting me, alleging that he was unwell. His gloomy
and suspicious temper had led him to imagine that I was mak-
ing observations for the purpqse of doing him an injury : he
therefore resolved to give information to the natives of my hav-
ing discovered their mines, knowing that the consequence of my
detection would he immediate death. Although I did not see
him after my being brought from the mine, ; ot J had reasons
for believing that ho directed all the ir councils ; and the disco-
very of the ore which I had buried sufficiently proved it, as it
was secreted in such a manner as to elude the most rigid
scrutiny.

In the evening t ,vo of the brothers of my benefactress came
to the hut, ready to conduct me on my journey. My horses
having been brought up by Edom, and ali things being in readi-
ness, we started as soon as the moon arose. They conducted
me a considerable distance on my way, and when they were
ready to leave ine I made them presents of beads and some
other articles, with which they were highly satisfied.

I now determined to steer a west southwesterly course, as I
wished to reach the confines of Mexico, from which I was still
a considerable distance. It was now the 1 2th of October, and
I calculated it would take me at least two months to reach the
place of my destination, as in many places the ways were al-
most impassable.

Before I proceed 1 will give a more particular account of the
Mnaccdeus Indians than I have hitherto done : the country they
inhabit is situated about 350 miles southeast from Mexico ; the
extent of their tribe I was never able to ascertain, which was
partly owing to my ignorance of their language- a»d partly to

t

Nature and PtQvidtnce.

a jealousy which they have imbibed against all strangers.—
That part of the country which 1 saw was fertile, me soil being
very rich. The growth of the forest is black and white oak,
hickory, walnut, white pine, cedar,* spruce pine, and a variety
of others which I did not particularly notice. The lofty mag-
nolia rears its magnificent head far above all others ; it is the
most beautiful tree which grows, and is deservedly celebrated
by travellers and naturalists.

These Indians have two towns which I saw, •ne containing
about 150 huts, and the other about twice that number. The
huts are constructed in a neater manner than any I had before
seen ; they consist of poles driven into the ground a proper
distance, in proportion to the size of the hut ; these are fasten-
ed at the top with strong thongs of buffalo hide, or. twigs of
trees : they are then interlaced with strips of bark, which are
rubbed smooth, and some of them stained with the juice of
berries, which gives them a very neat appearance. They
have a raised bench of earth all Ground their huts, on which
they sleqpat night. Their cooking utensils are few in num-
ber, as they dry the principal part of their provisions in the air.

Their arms, marriages, burials, &cc. I have already described,
and shall therefore conclude with a few observations on the
tribe in general. They are honest, and as far as the nature of
a savage life will admit, are industrious; their dispositions are
naturally mild, and on the whole they are far from being so sav-
age as tnany tribes who are situated on the borders of the Red
river. They are jealous of admitting white men among them,
although I have reason to think they have been visited by very
few ; their jealousy is principallyon account of their mine of
platina, which is encouraged by the white man who is settled
-among them.

Platina is a metal which has been but recently discovered,
but is very valuable, and well worthy the attention of gov-
ernment. I estimated that the mine would yield upwards of
a million of pounds sterling worth of platina ; for the veins are
so rich, that without any proper tools, 1 got more than a hun-
dred and twenty pounds of pure metal, in the three visits I
made to the mine ; and that under every disadvantage, and
without remaining more than an hour each time.

("I shall now remark lo the reader, thnt I am under the necessity
of abridging Mr. Ker's narrative, who from the mine platina pursued
his journey through various difficulties, incident to a tour through
such an immense wilderness as lay yet beyond him, before he could
reach the Mexican empire. I will however state, that after having

•The cedar* are very maj<*f tic ; I m« a«urr d one T.hich was four *f«»et in diaiiTfcfertmd
upward* of thirty .eight fort Hoaf <"flimb*.

534

The U ondirj of

armed there, and travelled in that country largely, and having made
many observations upon the country, the inhabitants* their maimers,
customs, laws, religion, literature, minerals, kc. he commenced his
return towards the United States, in company ^ itli a guide, and his
faithful negro.] m

It was some time before I could procure a person who was
going over the mountain ; at last one was presented who brought
a letter from a Spanish gentleman of my acquaintance, recom-
mending him .very high!}'. His appearance did not prepossess
me very greatly in his favour ; his height was about six feet ;
his countenance was dark, and shaded by an enormous pair of
whiskers ; a large pair of dark eyes, which glared with uncom-
mon fierceness, completed one of the most savage countenan-
ces I ever saw. His terms were very moderate, and I employ-
ed him.

In the morning we started, and proceeded with as much speed
as the road would allow, it being in many places covered with
underwood, and a rich long grass, which gets matted, and ren-
ders the travelling in some places heavy and disagreeable. —
The climate is here dry and healthy, and the soil very rich and
fruitful ; it is of a thick black loam, and covered with a rich
luxuriant grass, which is much esteemed by cattle.

We again started forward, and about ten o'clock entered
more deeply into the wood. I objected to the manner of pro-
ceeding, and told my guide we had better continue more at tie
edge of the wood : hS told me that the nearest, route would be
to pursue the road he pointed out, as the other was more cir-
cuitous and not so often travelled. I told him he might con-
tinue; and we proceeded with difficulty through the loner gra»
and underwood, which were here very thick. About dark I
proposed stopping, but he assured me that there was a large spot
which was open and clear, only a" few miles ahead, and that it
would be best to go there. About 8 o'clock we arrived in an
open hpace, which seamed to have been formed by the cutting
down of the trees-. Before I had time to make any observations,
a loud whistle caused me to turn round, raid I saw advancing
towards me, a' large party, armed with guns and cutlasses. I
seized my gun, but they instantly ran towards me, and in an in-
stant I was on the ground. They now blindfolded me, and I
was led along between two of them, who held me by the arm.-;
They went forward a considerable distance, and then began to
descend, which they continued for a considerable time. The
dampness of the air, Lfelt very perceptibly, which induced me
to thiuk that I was a considerable way under ground.

Whither I was going, or why take n in -this manner I could

% Nature aud Providence. 535

not account, unless they were robbers, into whose hands I had
been betrayed by my perfidious guide.

After being conducted in this manner for near a quarter of
an hour, they stopped, and in a few minutes I heard a voice,
whose commanding tone induced me to believe him to be a man
of authority, speak in the Spanish language, and order me to
be unbound. They immediately loosened the bandage, and I
found myself in a small passage which was lighted by four
torches. A man of a commanding figure, stood contemplating
mi with fixed attention ; he was surrounded by about twenty
persons, whose ferocious countenances declared them capable
of performing any diabolical deed which might be suggested
to them.

He surveyed me some time in silence, and then turning from
ine, spoke in a low tone of voice to one who stood near him,
and departed. The one to whom he spake now took a torch,
and beckoned me to follow him ; I did so, and after going
along several windings of the rock, all of which I perceived
had doors in them, he reached the extremity of one, and open-
ing a door which was made of iron, he pointed in silence that
I might enter. When I got in he shut the door, and I heard
him turn a key. My reflections were gloomy, and I felt as
though 1 was shut out from all the world.

In about an hour, an old woman whom I had net before seen,
made her appearance. She brought with her acold fowl, and some
coffee, which she set down ; she then went away without say-
ing a word. In a few minutes she returned, with a matrass and
bedding, which she put on a cot, and made me up a comforta-
ble bed.

I had hitherto preserved a profound silence, and I saw noth-
ing in the face of this old woman which was an inducement for
me to break it. She was below the middle size ; her counte-
nance sallow, and much blackened by the sun. She had a ve-
ry long nose, and one of her eyes had been put out in some
squabble. Her whole appearance was the most ugly 1 had ev-
er seen in womankind. As soon as she made my bed she de-
parted, locking the door after her, and preserving a profound
silence during the whole of her visit. In the rnoruing she
came agaiu, and brought me my breakfast, and again left me
to my self. As they had not searched my pockets when they
brought me into the cavern, 1 had still pen, ink, and paper, be-
sides a considerable sum of money, which I secreted against a
time of need, for I hud an idea that I should yet be enabled
to escape from my present situation if ^ they allowed me to re-
main alive, which, from. the manner they t retted me. T had no
doubt th»-y would.

The Wojiders of

I continued in this manner for three days, when on the third
night I heard a considerable noise and bustle, which seemed to
-be some violent contention among the band of robbers, for I
had now no doubt of their being such.

In about an hour my door was unlocked, and a man whom I
had not before seen, entered, and advanced towards me. I
kept my eye fixed upon him, expecting he had come with an
intention of attacking me. At last he asked me in Spanish if
I understood any. thing of medicine. As I had a small chest
of medicines with me, I did not doubt they had concluded from
this that I was a physician, and I answered him in the affirma-
tive. He immediately left me, and did not return for near an
hour. When he came back he opened the door, and bade me
follow him. I immediately went out, and we proceeded in the
same direction 1 had come, until we came to a turning which
branched ofF to the right ; we turned into it, and after proceed-
ing for some time, he opened a door which led me into a large
hall ; he mow motioned me to sit down. All was- silent as the
grave, for not a word had been spoken from the time we left
my chamber. The faint beams of a solitary lamp glared
through the apartment, and served to show the horrors of the
place. The black walls, which reflected a thousand shadows,
and the height of the room, which was lost in the darkness
which surrounded me, seemed, to give a gloomy horror to my
situation, and for the moment I felt the impression of fear steal-
ing over me.

In a short time the man who conducted me liere came back,
and desired me to follow him. His accent was respectful, and
his whole behaviour seemed to be much altered from what it
had been. I followed him in silence, and a few minutes brought
me to a small room, in which was a bed with curtains and the
other furniture was rich and elegant ; two lamps of silver with
six wicks, hung in the centre of the room, and a sideboard,
which stood on one side, contained a rich service of plate. 1
was led to the bedside, and a man undrew the curtains and ad-
dressed me in the Spanish language. The moment he spoke 1
knew him to be the captain of the band. He told me that he
was very ill, and in great pain ; that their physician had been
killed the night before ; that seeing 1 had a box of medicines,
they believed me to be a physician ; if I was, and would cure
him, he should not be ungrateful for it. After a short pause he
added, if, however, you should attempt to take my life, in hopes
by that means to effect your liberty, be assured that it will be
all in vain, and that the most lingering death will await you :
I have those who will watch your proceedings, and on the'least

\

NatUKt and Providence. 52(7

appearance of my growing worse yon will be pot in close con-
finement.

Although this information rendered it Ifteardous for me to .
undertake any thing for him, yet there was ho alternative, for
he assured m#l should not be allowed to leave my room unless
I consented to use my best endeavours for his recovery, and
that if I succeeded he would reward me handsomely and treat
me as his friend.

1 accordingly felt his pulse, and found him in a high fever,
which, from 'appearances, 1 judged to be of an inflammatory
kind. I told him I conceived bleeding to be absolutely neces-
sary ; and took from his arm eight ounces of bipod, and gave
iiim some medi-ine which would be of service in relieving his
pain. Some refreshments were brought to me, and I contin-
ued with him until he fell into a profound sleep.

In about three hours I was again sent for, and found my pa-
tient much better than 1 had expected, he being entirely free
from pain. He expressed himself very thankful to me for ray
assistance, anj entered freely into conversation ; in the course .
of which, he assured me that 1 need be under no apprehension
for my personal safety, as long as I did not attempt to make my
escape, but that whenever I attempted that, lie" could no longer
protect me.

In a few days the captain was so far recovered as to be able
to leave his bed for a short time each day. During this time
I continued his constant companion, and he seemed to take
pleasure in my company ; at night I always retired to the room
which I first occupied, and seldom left it till after breakfast.

I one morning went into his room, and was much surprised
to hear him return the compliment of the morning in good Eng-
lish. He laughingly told me he thought he could speak bis
native tongue best. I then understood he was a native of the
United States, but of what particular part I could not learn, as
he had travelled all over it, and there was scarce a town in the
union that he could not describe.

About noon he generally laid down, being still very weak, and
I was frequently left alone in his room. Perceiving this, he told
me that there was a small room to the right which contained a
few books, but whether any thing worthy of attention or not he •
did not know, as he seldom read any, and the room had not
been use4 since Frederick, a young man who formerly lived
with them, died. I went in, and found about one hundred vol-
umes, ranged on shelves in a very neat and orderly manner*
Among them were many good English and Spanish authors,
which I judged from appearance had been taken from travellers.
With them I passed the time as agreeably as could be expected

68

638

The Wonders oj

in my situation, and the uncertainty when I should agam bfc at

my liberty.

In about three «eeks the captain was perfectly recovered,
and one evening there was to be given a little entertainment on
account of his recovery. I remained with him aftgreat part of
the day, and at night, when I was about to retire, he told me
that he should be g!ad of my company to supper that evening.
1 could not with propriety refuse, and about eight we entered
the hall, which served them for their nightly banquets. They
were already assembled, and on his entrance they all arose and
welcomed him with shouts of applause. He bowed, and took
his seat at the head of the table, and directed me to a seat by
the side of him.

I now had liberty to look around and observe the room io
which we were. It was a natural excavation of the mountain,
but had been considerably widened by the art of man ; the roof
was near fifteen feet high, from which was suspended nineteen
large lamps, each having six wicks. The table was long, and
covered with a profusion of every thing which ^ould provoke
or gratify the appetite.

The company consisted of about thirty men, whose aspects
bespoke them familiar with guilt, and who were only intent on
the gratification of their sensual appetites. The captain, whose
sickness had rendered him mild in the chamber, row assumed
that fierce and determine d air which was peculiar to his profes-
sion, and for a moment 1 could not perceive that he was the
same man.

After supper the wine began to circulate, and noise and mirth
soon reigned throughout the cavern. The captain drank very
sparingly of the wine, and at an early hour retired to his cham-
ber, being still too weak to set up a great while at a time. 1
accompanied him to the door, and then retired to my room,
meditating on the means most likely to effect my escape from a
place of such wretchedness and infamy.

1 repaired in the morning to the library, as I now called it,
from the circumstance of its containing all the books in the cav-
ern, and was soon joined by the c aptain, who, takinga choir
nearly opposite me, commenced an animated conversation on the
duties of religion, and the divine attributes of the Deity. At
first 1 supposed that he wasjesting and that I should soon hear some
of the stale observations of Thomas Paine, or others (»f the same
school ; but 1 iui<tnkru, and his language was so nervous
and elegant, and h< caj».:fiat<d with such clearness and perspi-
cuity, thut I listened \ii:h fixed attention. When he ceased
'•peaking, I ventured to hint to him that the sentiments which
he had just new eipressed were not congenial to his present

Nature and Providence.

539

mode of life. "I acknowledge it," said he, "but the lips of
men oftentimes express sentiments which they cannot but ac-
knowledge the justness of, though at the same time their actions
are directly opposite to them." *

He now changed the conversation to the books which < i '
in the room, and in the course of it mentioned the you; - :i
who had taken so much care of them, whom he cullen Vn **e-
rick. 1 ventured to ask wro he was, and what was the i;hjm.-
of his death. At these question* his countenance changrd, and
he sat for some minutes silent : at last he replied, " I nave no
objections to answering the questions you put me as far as it is
in my power, provided you will solemnly promise never 10 re-
late it to any one here." I without hesitation made the requir-
ed promise, and lie proceeded a9 follows : " It is impossible for
me to tell you correctly who he was ; but thus much I know,
he was an American, and f judged born in one of the southern
states ; his manners were mild, and he acquired the good nill
of the most ferocious of our ban i ; he was with us about twelve
months, but, as his constitution was delicate, he fell into a de-
cline, which carried him ofTin about three months after he took
to his bed ; I used my bes endeavours with the band to have
him liberated, but without effect, as there are many amoi>g us
who have less feeling than the brute creation, and they were
fearful that he, would betray them, although he assured them in
the most solemn manner that he would never divulge their place
of concealment."

H< re the ferocity of discountenance was changed, and a tear
trickled down his cheek; he wiped^lt hastily away, and then
said, " Sir, it may seem surprising to you that I should be so
much affected at the death of a fellow creature, who have been
instrumental in the death of hundreds ; but there are moments
when the principles which were inculcated by my ever respect-
ed parents will prevail, and triumph over the vicious principles
I have imbibed."

The captain and myself were now constant companions. He
had recovered so far as to be able to go out with his troop, and
I understood they were preparing for an expedition which would
detain the greater part of them out for a number of days. I
judged this would be the time for me to make my escape ; but
one evening after supper, (for I had now supped with them for
some time,) they desired me to retire, as they had something
confidential to propose to the band : 1 felt a iin\-r-ntiinem >i.at
it was something which would operate against me, l*ui rosr and
retired.

In about an hour the captain came to my npartin "M : ' *w
vexation visibly portrayed in his countenance, and judgeo he

The Wonders of

had unpleasant news (o communicate to me. After a silence ok
some time be informed me, that, as the band was to leave the
eave the next morning, they had come to the resolution of con-
fining me to my room for some'time : he added, " You may rat
assured that I opposed this resolution as much as I dared to do,
and had it not been for that rascal, Jim, I should have been ena-
bled to have got you the liberty of the hall ; but 1 will teach
him better things than to oppose me, before he is much older."
He walked the room several times with a quick pace, and then
turning to me, added, " but don't be down hearted ; we shall
not be gone long, and if you want any of the books which arein
the other room, you shall have them." 1 thanked him for his
attention, and requested a few books which I named. After a
little more conversation he left me.

In a few minutes the eld woman entered with a basket of
books, and, as she possessed all that curiosity which is common
to the female sex, and had lately become very loquacious, 1 was
in hopes of getting a Tittle information from her. After I had
praised her manner of cooking a fowl, and prepared her with
ttiany well turned compliments, 1 asked her if she knew what
route the band intended steering. "The Lord of heaven knows,"
she replied, " for I am sure it is impossible for any one else to
know, they keep it such a secret ; although for the matter of
that, I have always told themrthey might as well trust me, for I
should as soon think of going without eating as to mention it
to a living soul." But surely, said I, a person who is so use-
ful as you are, ought at least to know where they are going.—
" So I have told them a thousand times," said the old woman.
" and when William came into the kitchen just now to get his
WPter boots, says I to him, You suppose one can't tell where
you are a going, but I will lay my life that it is another tramp
to the river." How far do you call it to the river, ray good
madam, said I, in a careless tone, although I was much interest-
ed in the answer. " Why bless me, not more than two ,?

Here the appearance of the captain, who frowned most terribly
upon the poor woman, and bid her in a stern voice to quit the
Toom, put an end to our conversation at a moment when I ex-
pected to reap some benefit from it.

After walking the room for some time, the captain stopped,
and in a voice at once stern and commanding, censured my con-
duct for talking to the woman. " You know very well," said
he, " that I am to a certain degree responsible for the man} li-
berties with which you have been indulged, since you came here :
as long as you remain quiet, and make no attempts to leave this
place, you shall be treated with as much kindness as possible ;
but the mopient jtou attempt to gain any information respecting

Nature and Providtncc. 541

die situation of the place in which you are confined, a severe
punishment awaits you." Having said this, he shut the door
and departed, leaving me more disappointed at not gaining the
information I sought, than alarmed at his threats.

The next day the old lady again appeared, but I judged it
not prudent to speak to her. My books were my only employ-
ment, and 1 was sometimes busied in conjectures on that part of
the old woman's discourse % which she had lMt unfinished. I
could not make it out, although 1 believed myself to be nearer
the territories of the United States than 1 had before thought.

The time now passed heavily away ; but on the fifth day, at
about four o'clock in the afternoon, 1 heard noises which indue*
ed me to think that the party had returned from their expedi-
tion. ' In a few minutes the door of my room was opened by a
person who brought a request from the captain that 1 would im-
mediately coTie to him. When I came to his room he received
me with cordiality, and told me that he wanted me to do something
for his lieutenant, who had been badly wounded. I went to the
chamber of the lieutenant, and found that he had received a se-
vere sabre cut in the thick part of his thigh, and that he was
very weak from the loss of blood. I had still some of the leaves
which hati been given me by the Mnacedeus tribe of Indians,
who described them as being very excellent in curing fresh cut
wounds : I sent for my chest, and applied some of them to the
cut, at the same time directing him to keep quiet, and not to
drink any ardent spirits.

I returned to the room, and found the party preparing for a
grand festival, which was to celebrate their return to then* habi-
tation ; the great hall was lighted, and all was bustle in the
kitchen. About ten o'clock the supper was ready, and I again
took my seat by the side-of the captain, who appeared in an un-
usually good humour. They soon began to offer copious liba-
tions to Bacchus, and noisy mirth reigned throughout the hall.
I soon saw that perfect cordiality did not reign among the whole
party. Secret whisperings, and now and then an oath of defi-
ance, seemed to show that they were determined to oppose who-
ever attempted any thing contrary to their wishes. The cap-
tain's countenance now assumed that gloomy ferocity which wras
the forerunner of a storm, and he sat in sullen silence. At last Jim,
who had been the foremost in opposing my having the liberty of
the hall, asked the captain if he intended to divide it equally with
them. His countenance now assumed the liveliest red : " Do
you think that I am to be dictated to ?" said he. " No, cap-
tain," replied Jim, " nor are we fools enough to toil and bleed
for another to carry off the spoil who does not deserve it." —
- " You scoundrel," exclaimed the captain, " do you grumble at

*42

The Ponders

my authority ; I will blow you into eternity in a moment
with this he drew 6ut#a brace of pistols and fired at Jim, who fell,
and the captain prepared to finish his work with his sabre. The
rest of the company now gathered round, and endeavoured to
appease the captain's rage ; they were as humble now in their
iutreaties for the life of the culprit, as they had before been me-
nacing in their deportment. At their earnest request the rap-
tain agreed to spare his life, but put him into close confinement
until he should recover, when he was to be tried by the laws of
the gang.

The captain retired to his room, and I judged it best for me
to go to mine, as he was unlit for conversation. In the mora-
fing he sent for me, and when 1 came in I found him counting
some money. He motioned for me to sit down, and when he
had put his gold in. a paper he requested me to inform him how
far I intended travelling when I was taken. I informed him,
and he then told me that he had resolved to give me my liberty.
" My reasons for so doing," safd he, " are a profound secret to
the whole gang ; but I feel for your situation ; you are deserv-
ing of a better fate than awaits you here. I feel a presentiment
that my stay here is not long, aud if 1 should be killed I know
of no one that would afford you protection."

My feelings were such that 1 remained silent and motionless.
The captain, perceiving my surprise, said tome, "1 don't doubt
you are much surprised at my determination. You considered
yourself, and with good reason, among a band of robbers who
show mercy to no one. You were not mistaken. There are some
among* us of this gang who are a disgrace to civilized man, aud
who think themselves at the summit of human happiness if they
have an opportunity to hurl distress and misery among their fel-
low creatures. Although I am captain of this gang, and may
be considered as countenancing every act of cruelty which is
committed, and as having no feelings but those of rapine and
plunder, yet a spark will sometimes fly off from those princi-
ples which were inculcated with care by fond and indulging pa-
rents. My prospects in life were as bright, in the morning of
my days, as those of any young man. I laid my head on my
pillow at night but to devise new pleasures, and waked in the
morning but to enjoy them ; but dissipation soon became an at-
tendant on my steps, and from first plunging into debt, and then
into dishonour, my name became as much hated and despised
as it had before beeii honoured and respected." His counte-
nance discovered the most violent agitation, and his whole frame
shook with convulsion while he spoke : when he had ended, he
turned from me.

1 now assured him of my gratitude for his intended favours,

Atovtt 4tad Providence. 513

and told him that any thing which it was in my power to do
for him, be might rest assured should be done by me with plea-
sure. " From the late conversation I have had with you," said
I, " and from the confidence with which you have favoured me, .
I have reasons for believing that there are moments when yon
feel a degree of horror at your present pursuits and practices.
If you wish or expect to enjoy any happiness here or hereafter,
you must abandon the society you at present associate with. —
If, on my arrival in the United States, I can be instrumental in
affording you any assistance, be assured that I shall do it with
pleasure. As it is, I am fully grateful to you for the favour
you intend me, and have no doubt you will readily agree with
me that there is more pleasure in giving than in receiving the
means of happiness ; and that, in contemplating its benign in-
fluence, you perceive both the propriety and the excellency of
that divine aphorism, " It is more blessed to give than to re-
ceive."

He remained for some time silent, and at last observed, " Your
observation is correct ; I cannot expect any happiness here, nor
do I receive any only when I am sunk in intoxication, and my
passions have gained an ascendancy over my reason ; then, for
a moment, 1 feel insensible to every thing but the gratification
of my appetites, and sink to rest in delusive happiness ; but in
the morning the phantom has fled, I am still the wretch *I was
the morning before, and happiness seems to be farther removed
than ever. As it respects assistance, you can be of no service
to me; I am fixed, and must hi re drag out a miserable exis-
tence until death terminates the sceue. I shall call for you to
night at twelve o'clock, but you must solemnly swear that you
will not speak, nor stir from the place where I shall lead you.
until you hear the report of a pistol, and that you will then
take thp road which leads you straight forward."

I readily consented : he then observed, " You had some prop-
erty which it will be .impossible for me to restoregto you, as we
are much in want of good horses ; but you wnl receive this
gold," said he, handing me a parcel, " as a compensation, and
this," he added, presenting me with another, " as a mark of
my esteem." A bell now summoned him to the hall : he bid
me remember twelve that nit! hi, and left me.

1 retired to my room, and bc^au to make preparations for my
departure. The late conversation* 1 ' ad had with the captain,
convinced me that he was not entirely steeled against the calls
of conscience, though his pride was yet to»» great to permit him
to leave the comp m\ he was associated with.

1 had hitherto heard nothing of my faithful negro, who had
keen separated from me on being taken into the cavern, an<f all

§44

The Wonders •/

my attempts to get any information of him had hitherto proved
fruitless. When my dinner was served, I sent a note to the cap-
tain, requesting the liberty of seeing him. My request being
granted, in about half an hour I repaired to bis chamber.

After a little common conversation, I told the captain thrt
the reason of my visit, was to inquire about my negro. 1 ob-
served to him that he had been of great service to me in all my
travels, and almost my constant companion .through dreary for-
ests that bad never before been trodden by civilised man ; that
in my dangers and perils he had shown an attachment to me
"superior to that generally evinced by a servant to his master.
" I am sorry," said the captain, " that it is not in my power to
give you any pleasant information of him ; but, the second
night after his arrival here, he had a quarrel with one of the
band, who stabbed him with a sabre, and he fell dead at his feet.
1 should have mentioned this circumstance to you sooner, but I
did not wish to give you any uneasiness."

1 remained silent, for my feelings were such that I could not
give them utterance. The captain *aw 1 was affected, and said,
" It is with regret, 1 perceive, that you receive intelligence of the
death of your negro, but it was impossible for me to avoid it,
and 1 hope it will not cloud your present expected happiness ; all
depends on your being secret and active in your exertions after
you leave the cave, and 1 think it advisable that you should leave
me until such time asl send for you, as our being together may
excite suspicion after you are gone." I bowed in silence and
immediately left the room.

About twelve o'clock my door turned slowly upon its hinges,
and the captain entered ; he bowed and seated himself. We
both remained silent for some moments ; at last he said, " Are .
you ready ?" I told him I was. " I jet us be gone then," said
he, " for we have no time to lose." I arose, and in a few min-
utes we left the chamber, and proceeded in silence through a
number of winding passages. At last wc came to one much
wider, and which appeared to be the grand entrance ; here he
stopped and told me he must blindfold me. " You need be un-
der no apprehensions," said he ; " it is impossible for us to be
discovered, as we are at some distance from the rooms which
are inhabited by the men." I submitted in silence, and in a
few minutes he t >ok me by the hand, and conducted me along
the passage. The air now became more damp, and I judged
from the feeling that we were on a level with the sea, or some
neighbouring r.ver.

After walking half an hour, as near as I could judge, we be-
gan to rise a steep ascent, which was winding and in many pla-
ces uneven. 1 now began to feel the fresh air of tiight, and

«

Afatuu and PratHiwas.

ieard the wind whistling in the trees. I felt revived, and in- '
sensibly increased my pace. In a few minutes the captain whis-
pered, you are now free from the cavern, but speak not a word
lest you should be betrayed.

Words cannot describe my joy at once more being free from
my dismal abode. I involuntarily clasped his hand, and we
proceeded in silence for some considerable distance, Oftentimes
going through a winding path which rendered it impossible for
me to judge exactly the'route we were pursuing. In about an
hour he stopped, and told me that I was now in a road which
would lead me on ray journey, but that I must beware not to
stir until I heard the report of a pistol ; he advised me, as I
valued my existence, to pursue the road which I should find
before me. He informed me that about a mile on the road I
should find a horse ready saddled, which I must take, and pur-
sue my journey with all speed.

Here he made a full stop, and seemed violently agitated.-*-*
At last, grasping my hand with both of his, he exclaimed, with
a visible tremour in his voice, " Farewell ; may you be happy*
You go to meet friends, who anxiously expect your arrival, and
will receive you with rejoicing, whilst I am an outcast and *
villain, and my name is only rcnfembered to be execrated for
my baseness." He again shook me by the hand, and, after
cautioning me not to remove the bandage from my eyes until I
should hear the report of the pistol, he left me.

I listened with some attention to hear in what direction his
footsteps sounded, but after he had taken three or four steps, it
was impossible for me to hear the least sound, except the rust-
ling of the leaves on the trees. I waited with anxious impa-
tience for the report of the pistol, and was many times on the '
point of tearing the bandage from my eyes. About an hour
had elapsed, when I heard the distant report of a pistol, which
could be just distinguished.

I instantly tore the bandage from my eyes, and beheld my-*
self at the entrance of a road which led along a rich and fertile
valle}'. I pursued the path with eagerness, and, after walking
about a mile, saw. a horse tied to a tree, which I instantly loos-
ed and mounted.

The day was just dawning, and my course lay through a
level and fertile plain, where every thing had the most beautiful
and lively appearance.

I now examined the gold which the captain had given me the
preceding day, and found a liberal price for my mules, and as
much more as a present from the captain. I had been about
six weeks among them, and had it not been for the friendship of
the captain, I should probably have been confined for my lifetime*

60

Tfl&tydni&s of

I had, however, lost very little, except the company of my faith-
ful negro, who had been the constant companion of my truth,
and I now missed his society very much.

I arose very early in the morning, and proceeded on ray jow-
ney. I was anxious to reach some place where I could gain it-
formation of the nearest to the United States, for I did not know
whether I was going towards that country or not. About oooo
I came to a place where the road appeared to be much travel-
led, and I pushed forward, in hopes of meeting some person
who could give ine the information I wanted. Night coming oo
obliged*me to encamp, after having come thirty-eight miles.

I started forward in the morning, and at about eight o'clock
overtook three men who were travelling on towards the
Tuscarora tribe of Indians, to trade for furs. I enquired wbtt
distance I was from the United States, and they told me it was
ninety miles to Natchitoches. Th'13 was the most agreeable in-
telligence I could receive : I thanked them, and rode forward
with a mnch quicker 'pace. * At night Iencaraped, after having
come forty miles.

I started early^the next morning, aud about eight o'clock met
two hunters, who were going out to get skins : they told ne
they left Natchitocbes'the preceding dayt and should not re-
turn underj'rhree months. 1 rode on, and about three o'clock
arrived in town, at my friend, Mr. Potter's , who received ne
with a hearty welcome.

THE WORKS OF GOD DISPLAYED.

Natural History of the Earth and of the effects of the Deluge.

[Meth. Mag. — Eng.]

The Earth or terraqueous globe is a congeries of many dif-
ferent bodies. It contains sand, clay, various sorts of earth,
stones, 6alts of various kinds, sulphur, bitumen, metals, mineral),
and other fossils almost innumerable. Upon the earth are the
waters > and on or near its surface animajs or vegetables of all
kinds. But how was this whole mass formed into a sphere or
globe, containing mountains, valleys, seas, rivers, and islands :
Des Cartes advances one hypothesis, Dr. Burnet another, Dr.
Woodward again another, Mr. Whiston, also M. Buffou, and J>f
late Dr. Hutton and Mr. Whitehurst, have each presented ns
with a new Theory. And each word-builder advances various
reasons for his own hypothesis. But none of those reasons are

iXnturt and KQftjkm* &5

demonstrative : nay several of them have been shewn to be very
improbable.

That the earth is round, manifestly appears from the eclipses
of the moon, in all which the shadow appears circular, which
way soever it be projected. The natural cause of its roundness
is supposed to be the great principle of attraction, which the
Creator, it seems has stamped pn all the matter of the universe,
whereby all bodies and all the parts of bodies continually attract
each other. Through this, as all the parts of bodies tend nat-
urally to their centre, so they take a globous figure, unless some
other more prevalent cause interpose. Hence drops off quick-
silver put on a spherical form, the parts strongly attracting each
other : drops of water have the same form when falling in the .
air, but are only half round when they lie on a hard body, be-
cause their gravity overpowers their attraction. Yet the earth
is not exactly round, but swells out towards the equator, and
is flatter towards the poles, as has been undeniably proved 'by
the observations of modern mathematicians. Now the question
here is, Why the natural cause which gave the earth so much
of a spherical figure, did not make it a complete and exact
sphere?

We know it has been usual to account for this spheroidal
figure of tKe earth from its diurnal rotation on its axis,
producing a greater centrifugal force of the equatorial than of
the polar parts ; but- this explication can by no means be deem-,
ed sufficient. The globe we inhabit is composed of two very
different kinds of matter, earth and water. The former has a
very considerable power of cohesion, besides the gravitating
.power: The latter has very little cohesion, and its parts may
be separated fromjj each other by whatever will overcome its •
weight .9 It follows, therefore, that the solid parts of the earth,
resisting by their cohesion, the centrifugal force more than the
water,*6ught not to dilate so much. The waters of the ocean,
therefore, about the Equator, according to this hypothesis,
ought to swell up and overflow the land : and this they ought
to do at this present moment as much as at the first creation. —
That this ought to be the case is evident from the phenomena
of the tides. It is9not to be doubted but that the attraction of
the moon affects the solid earth as well as the sea : But because
of the] greater cohesion of the parts of the former, it cannot
yield as the ocean does, and therefore the waters are raised to*
some height above it. Mr. Whitehurst and some others, solve
this difficulty by supposing the earth to have been' originally
fluid. But this is arguing in a circle : for if we desire them to
prove this original fluidity, they will do it by the spheroidal
figure of the earth : and if the cause] of the Spheroidal figute

He Wonders of

is requised, they refer us to the original fluidity. This diffi-
culty, therefore, is inexplicable on this Theory, and probably
an any other. It must, no doubt, be referred to the Will of
God. It may be observed here, that what the earth loses of
its spherical or^globous figure by mountains and vales, is no-
thing considerable : The highest eminence upon the earth be-
ing scarce equivalent to the smallest protuberance on the sur-
face of an orange. The diameter cff the earth is supposed to
be 7967 miles, the greater diameter, viz. that at the equator, ex-
ceeding the less, which is from pole to pole, about thirty-four
Hules.

There are many other difficulties, which no theory yet in-
vented can account for. For instance, in many places, such
as the. isthmus of Darien, a narrow neck of land is interposed
betwixt two vast oceans. These beat upon it on either side
with vast force : yet the isthmus is never broken down or dimin-
ished. The case is the same with the isthmus of Suez, which
Joins Asia and Africa, and with that which joins the Moreaor
• ancient Peloponesus to the continent. The difficulty is by what
natural power, or law, are these narrow necks of land preserved
amidst the waters, which threaten them on both sides with de-
struction ?

Again : the surface of the earth is by no means smooth and
equal ; but in some places raised into enormous ridges of moun-
tains, and in others sunk down in such a manner as to form deep
valleys. These mountains, though they have been exposed to
all the injuries of the weather for many thousand years, exhibit
no signs of decay. They still continue of the same size as be-
fore, though vast quantities of earth are frequently washed down
iron them by rains, which, together with the force of gravity
tending to level and bring them on an equality with the plains
on which they stand, we might reasonably think, ought by this
time to have rendered them smaller than before. Now, what
Theory can assign any proper, natural cause, whereby the
mountaias were originally formed, and through which they pre-
serve their siie without any remarkable diminution.

Further : The internal parts of the earth are still more won-
derful than the external. The utmost industry of man, indeed,
can penetrate but a little way into it. As far as wc can reach,
however, it is found to be composed of dissimilar strata, lying
©ae upon another, not commonly in an horizontal direction,
but inclined to the horizon at different angles. These strata
aeem not to be disposed either according to the laws of gravity,
•r according to their density, but, as it were, by chance. Be-
tide*, in the internal parts of the earth are vast chasms and va-

Nature and Pnovidenc^ 54j>

cuities. By what means were these strata originally deposited^
the fissures and chasms, Sec. made ?

Once more : In many places of the earth, both on the surface,
and at great depths under it, vast quantities of marine produc-
tions, such as shells, &c. are to be met with. Sometimes these
shells are found in the midst of solid rocks of marble and lime-
stone. In the very heart of the hardest stores, also, small ve-
getable substances, as leaves, &c. are to be found. The ques-
tion is, by what nheans were they brought thither ? »

These are some of the most striking difficulties which present
themselves to one who undertakes to write a Natural History,
or Theory of the Earth.

In the terraqueous globe are 1. The external part, from
which vegetables grow, and animals are nourished. 2. The
middle part, which is possessed by fossils, and extends further
than human labour can penetrate. 3. The internal, of which
we know nothing, the deepest cavities, natural or artificial,
known to us, scarce penetrating a mile below the surface.

In the external part we meet with various strata, formed, as
is generally supposed, by the deluge. The exterior parts of
the earth were then dissolved, and mixed with the water, in one
common mass. Afterwards they sunk ; but not always accord-
ing to the laws of gravity, for which very sufficient reasons may
be assigned. Every one who has had an opportunity of seeing
the effects of a violent land flood, will be ready to own, that it
has performed things which he would not. before-hand have
thought it possible it could have done. But how infinitely
must these effects have bpen exceeded by one vast deluge, in
which not only the dry land was softened, and even dissolved,
by an incessant rain of six weeks and that so violent, that Moses
describes it by saying " the windows of heaven were opened
but all " the fountains of the great deep were broken up" from
beneath, and the immense collection of waters, then in the bow-
els of the earth, issued forth, while the sea rose on all sides, and
poured in upon it, with all its moveable contents, which the
waters carried along with them. That great numbers of shells,
already formed, would be brought along with' the waters of the
ocean cannot be doubted ; and we shall be inclined to look on
this number as exceeding great, if we consider that, by the wa-
ters issuing from the bottom of the ocean, as well as from every
pore of the ea*h : all the light bodies at the bottom of the sea,
must have been turned topsy-turvy, and carried up no one can
tell how far. And then, by the progressive motion of the wa-
ters, they must have been carried to an unknown length over
the land, and there deposited when the motion ceased.

This circumstance itself will account for tbe appetmnce of

Tht W*njit&#f

vast numbers of shells, and other marine productions, on land.
But there is another which must be taken along with it, and
will, undoubtedly, add greatly to its force. The unfathomable
depths of the ocean, it seeifis, are not the proper habitations of
fish : they are only found on shoals, or nefcr the sea coasts. At
the time of the deluge, therefore, great numbers of the marine
animals must have exchanged, their ancient habitations, for those
where the water was more shallow ;"and of consequence mnst
have abounded on the tops of mountains, and other elevated
places. Whether those animals, whose exuviae are most plenti-
fully met with on laud, have any loco-motive power when fall
grown or not, they are certainly of such minute sizes, when
young, that they may be floated to any distance by water.
Thus, therefore, any kind of shell-fish may have reached any
place in the globe ; and we know that they can arrive at their
full' maturity in less than a year ; as the beds which have been
exhausted one year, are found to be replenished the next. Now
the flood, according to the Scripture account, continued long
ejiough to allow time for their increase from spawn to their fell
size. It arrived at its full height in 40 days, and continued
stationary for five months. * It then began to decrease ; but bo
gradually, that it was not till the first day of the tenth month
that the tops of the mountains began to appear above the sur-
face of the water ; and it. was not till towards the end of the
eleventh, that the tops of trees began to emerge. Here then,
we have time for beds of shell-fish to grow, live, and afterwards
be left by the water ; which, in their mature state, they could
not follow, and thus to die in the places where they were gen-
erated.

Thus far we may safely argue with regard to the existence of
large beds gf shells on the surface of the earth ; and it lias al-
ready been shewn, how the earth would naturally cover and
swallow them up to a considerable depth. But to account for
the great depths at which we sometimes find them buried, sev-
eral other things must be taken into consideration. One is, that
the earth, by the continual rains at the time of the deluge, as
well as by the issuing of the waters every where through its sub-
stance, must have been exceeding soft, and easily penetrated.
The helpless animals, therefore, brought along with the ocean,
at its first irruption over land, would be Seep buried in the mud.
And when we take into our account the pressure of a column
of water four miles deep, -it is impossible to say what effects this
cause might have produced. They might, besides, have been
accumulated in clefts of rocks, in hollows, vallies, and caves ;
and have been there consolidated by petrifaction, and the growth
of calcareous matter over them. And that something familiar

to- this happens in fact, we are very certain. Mr. WhitchurSt
informs us, that " the springs of Matlock, in Derbyshire, though
extremely pellucid and friendly to the human constitution, are,
nevertheless, plentifully saturated with calcareous matter, jrhich
readily adheres to vegetables, and other substances immersed
in the stream ; and thus, by a constant accretion, large masses
of stone are gradually formed. The banks on which the bath
houses stand, and likewise the buildings themselves, are mostly
composed of such materials." — Now had these waters directed
their course over a bed of shells, through a burying-place, or
over a field of battle, it is evident, that they would have en-
dosed a great number of shells, human and horse bones, heads
of lances, swords or even the more modern weapons of guns .
and pistols ; which to a curious naturalist, might have furnished
an argument for the antiquity of these latter weapons. If, there- v
fore, we see at this day that bodies may be so easily imbedded
in stone, why should we pretend to set bounds to the petrifac-
tions which may have happened in the course of more than
4000 years ? A period far beyond the reach of our most ancient
histories.

It was not meant, to explain all the appearances of fossil shells,
or bones, be. from the Deluge as the general cause. This can-
not be done unless we knew all the circumstances. The fol-
lowing facts, however, may be looked upon as authenticated.
1. That irhen the water overwhelmed the land, great numbers
of marine animals were carried along with it. 2. That, during
its continuance, most of those which have any. loco-motive pow-
er would choose rather to dwell over land, where the water was
comparatively shallow, than in places which had formerly been
their residence. 3. That while the waters remained on the earth,
all kinds of marine animals would breed over land, in their nat-
ural way ; and such as could not follow the waters in their re-
treat, would be left to die on dry land, which must have been the
case particularly with shell-fish. 4. These impotent animals,
which have little or no power of loco-motion, would, by the pres-
sure of a column of water four miles high, be buried to depths un-
known. 5. After the retreat of the Waters, those which had
been lodged in hollows or clefts, or perhaps diffused thro' the
„ substance of many soft strata, might by some petrifying quality
in the stratum, be so consolidated along with it as afterwards to •
form one entire rock. This is evident, not only from the exam-
ple of the Matlock springs, but more so from that of the pine
found in the stone at Redruth in Cornwall, from the petrified
skull mentioned by Dr. Plott, and many others ; of which we
shall mention the following from Mr. Whitehurst. The strata
oflinre stone, in Derbyshire^ arirf in many other parts oif Eng-

The Wendttsof

land, abound with the exuviae of marine animals, or the impress
sions of them in the solid substance of the stone ; and we have
likewise several instances, related by authors, of the bones of
terrestrial animals, and also of wood,, having been found enve-
loped in strata of stone. A complete human skeleton, with
British beads, chains, iron rings, brass bits of bridles, was dug
up in a stone quarry near the earl of Widdrington's seat at
Blanknay in Lincolnshire. Human bones and armour, with
Roman coins, fibulae, be. were found in a stone pit in the park
at Hustanton in Norfolk, supposed to have been buried after a
battle. In the mountain of Canne, half a league from Maestricht,
were found the remains of a crocodile well preserved in a stra-
tum of sand stone. The remains of a crocodile were also found
in a stratum of stone at Blenheim. The beds of argillaceous
stone, &c. incumbent on coal, also contains a great variety of
figured fossils representing different parts of the vegetable cre-
ation.

From these examples, it is plain, that the lapidescent power,
which the earth possesses, is capable of incrusting bodies with
stone to an unknown thickness. In whatever situation, there-
fore, we find those fossil bodies, we have no reason to say that
the Deluge is not ultimately the cause of their being there;
because its pqwer in overspreading the earth with them, in bu-
rying them in it, or forcing them into clefts and caverns, is alto-
gether unknown : And before it is denied that the Deluge
could be the cause of such appearances, it is necessary to show
all that it really could do, which is evidently impossible ; so
that here our speculations must ultimately rest.

We shall only add one other fact which must certainly have
taken place at the deluge. At that time the world is generally
thought to haive been very full of inhabitants. These as well
as all the inferior animals, would naturally flee from the ap-
proaching dauger. This would assemble them in great num-
bers in such places as appeared to afford security ; and here
they would all perish together, This will account for the vast
heaps of bones found in certain parts of the world, as in the
rock of Gibraltar, Dalmatia, fac. and the natural petrifactive
power of the earth may account for their consolidation. The
slaughters which mankind have made of one another may in-
deed Recount for many of these appearances. When we read
in history of 40,000, 50,000 or 100,000 men killed in a battle,
we never think of the space their bones would occupy when
thrown into a heap ; nevertheless, we are assured that the bulk
of these remain* must be very great. Tamerlane, with an
army of 800,000 men filled up the harbour of Smyrna, by caus-
ing each of his soldiers to throw one stone into it ; and when

Nature and Providence.

Marius defeated the Cimbri, the bones of the slain were*so nu-
nerous, that they were used, for a long time, as fences for vine-
yards. Had these been collected into one heap, and a$£f wards
consolidated by petrifactive matter, they would un'f' ..jtedly
lave occupied a very considerable space. What then, must
lave been the case, when . every man, nay e< very other terrestrial
rreature died at ortee ? Taking all these things into considera-
tion, it must 'surprise us that the collection of fossil bones are
lot more numerous than we really find them.

Altho' KuiTon intimates that the earth is in a perishing state,
that the hills will be levelled, and the Ocean at last cover the
vhole lace of the earth, there does not seem the smallest foun-
dation in nature for these imaginations. The earth, no doubt,
vill remain nearly as it is till it shall please God to destroy it by
ire. The mountains have continued what they were from the
iarliest accounts of time, without any signs of decay. AJount
Etna, besides the waste common to it with other mountains,
lath been exhausting itself by throwing out incredible quantities
jf its own substance ; yet it still Mjems to be what it was called
>y Pindar 2,200 years ago, the pillar of heaven. It seems ex-
remely probable, therefore, that there are powers in the system
>f Nature, which tend to preserve, and are capable of coun-
eracting those which tend to destroj', the mountains ; and per-
laps the late discovery concerning the attraction of mountains
nay, sometime or other, throw some light on the nature of tliose
>owers.

The like may be said of the Isthmuses, or narrow necks of
ands which, in some parts of the world join different countries
ogether ; such as the isthmus of Ddrien, of Suez, the Morea,
ic. Tho' the Ocean seems to beat on these with great violence,
hey are never diminished in bulk, nor washed away, as one
night suppose they would be. It seems there must be some
lower in nature by which these narrow necks of land are pre-
erved from the fury of the Ocean ; for history does aot afford
me instance of any neck of land of this kind being broken
lown by the sea. Just so, it seems impossible to soke the diff-
iculties with regard to the strata and shells by any other means
ban supposing that there are in the terrestrial matter several
listinct powers, by which the strata of any particular kind, are
iccasionally transformed into others ; and that the shells and
ither marine bodies . were originally desposited upon the sur-
lce by the Deluge.

70

654

The Wonders tf

THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD ASSERTED

•

God's care for the pious poor, demonstrated in the jollowing ac-
count.

[Meth. Mag.— Eng.]

Towards the close of the year 1779, as I am informed bji
most respectable intimate friend, whose name need only be
mentioned to confirm the veracity of the following tale in the
mind of every reader ; but who chooses to remain concealed :
An old man, near sixty years of age, diminutive and deformed
in his person, came hither in his way to W. and requested of
me to take him in, and furnish him with employment, as the
, winter presented him with no other prospect, than to be starved
with cold or hunger ; and not being full sixty years old, he could
not be received in the hospital. Providence enabled me to
provide for him, by furnishing him with work in his own profes-
sion, I gave him some maps to paint for my pupils: From this
person, who remained with me for thirteen months, until death
removed him, I learnt the following very remarkable circum-
stance :

Me was a native of Alsace, but on a journey he made to K.,
he married : He inhabited a small house without the gates of
the town, and his employment barely subsisted him, though Ik
constantly worked for rich and respectable people in the city:
he was a Painter and Gilder. Every evening he was accai-
tomed to bring bread home with him for his family, from the
produce of his work ; it happened, however, once, that he did
not receive his money. Although God has expressly comman-
ded, that the sun shall not go down before the labourer receives
his hire, yet the degenerate Christian pays but little attention to
the commands of his Maker. Very many, and clergymen
amongst the number, are not acquainted with all his written
commands, more especially those in the Old-Testament, not-
withstanding Jesus Christ has absolutely declared that all those
of a moral nature shall be strictly observed, and that not a jot
or tittle thereof shall fail, Matt. v. 15.

Now could the poor Gilder no longer get paid by bis employ-
ers; for some time, however, he was enabled to carry home
bread with him as usual, to his hungry family, but at length, every
resource was exhausted. Throughout the day, during his work
he addressed inward prayers to God, that he would graciously
dispose* the hearts of his employers in his favour, so that they
Slight not let him go home peonyless, bat the day passed, the '

Nature and Providence.

time of labour was finished, and the poor husband and father had
nothing ; — nothing at all to take home with him ! Melancholy
and sad he entered the suburbs, where he lived, with a heavy
heart, and downcast ejyes; when, one going towards the city
met him, saluted him as he passed, and slipping a piece of silver
into his hand, glided by him. B. (so was the poor man called,)
stood stock still, astonished, and shouting aloud, with eyes up-
lifted ; tears ran down his cheeks, and he bitterly reproached
himself for his vile unbelief in that God, who feedcth the ra-
vens, and numbers the very hairs of our head.

Passing onwards, his way lay through a path between two
hedges, where he heard a faint voice in a mournful complaining
strain, and be looked round him to know from whence it pro-
ceeded ; he saw a young man. who had the appearance of a
traveller lying in the grass, pale, weak and emaciated. — "What
is the matter, my friend ?" asked the poor Painter ; — " Sir, I
am a travelling mechanic, and am going towards home ; I have
yet far to go ; as my money ran short, 1 was obliged to act with
the utmost frugality, and expended daily only what my most ur-
gent necessities demanded. Notwithstanding this my money is
all gone; the whole of this day have I pursued my journey
without tasting food, but my strength is entirely exhausted, and I
can go no further !" What was poor B. to do ? — lie had nothing
But the small piece of silver ; — should he give him that? — hut
what would remain for his hungry, expecting children? perplex-
ed, confounded, and almost mechanically without knowing what
he said, he demanded of the young man if he had no small mon-
ey about him, even of the most trifling value, to give him in ex-
change for his little piece of silver?" O my dear Sir, would
God I had, I should not be here any longer!" The heart of
poor B. felt a terrible conflict ; at last, shrugging up his shoul-
ders, with great sorrow and heaviness of mind, he pursued his
way. But he went not far, the piece of money burned like fire
in his pocket ; he hastily turned back, gave it to the poor trav-
eller, and with great agitation turned away quickly, weeping,
sobbing, and almost reeling like a drunken man. He had not
proceeded far, before he met a man with several longish loaves
of bread, which be carried under his arm, coming directly to-
wards him. As they approached each other the man saluted
him in a very friendly manner, and passing him, slipped one of
his loaves under his arm, and putting a dollar into his hand, has-
tened away. The poor Painter threw himself on the grass, and
wept aloud — Who can read, without the deepest emotion, this
wonderful relation of the gracious Providence of God towards
the necessities of his children. The worthy painter acted wi.h
such pure humanity, and the hand of God so visibly interposed,

556

The Wonders of

that while we are compelled to bestow our w armest approbation
on his conduct, we are also led to offer our humble adoration to
the Throne of grace. Sir h tales as these are like apples of
gold in dishes of silver, and at all times, although in our days
more especially, are a word in due season. If the poor Chris-
tian be led hereby to further confidence in that God, who hears
and answers praxer : and if the weak believer be taught hereby
to blush for hi:, unbelief, this memorable instance of God's pa-
ternal care will not have been recorded in vain.

THE GRACE AND PROVIDENC E OF GOD MAM-
* - FESTED.

[Meth. Mag.]

When Oliver Cromwell entered upon the command of the
Parliament's army, against Charles I. he ordered all his soldiers
to carry a bible in their pockets, (the same which is now called
Field's.) Among the rest, there was a wild, wicked young fel-
low, who ran away from his apprenticeship in London, for the
sake of plunder and dissipation. This fellow was obliged to h?
in the fashion. Being one day ordered Out upon a skirmishiuc
party, or to attack some fortress, he returned back to his quar-
ters in the evening without hurt. When he was going to bd,
pulling the Bible out of his pocket, he obsened a hole in it. Hi>
curiosity led him to trace the depth of this hole into his Bible:
he found a bullet was pone as far as Ecclrsrostcs xi. D. He read
the verse, Rejoice, O young Man, in thy youth, and let ihv
heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the »a\?
of thy heart, and in the si.uht of thine eves ; but know thou, t!ir.t
for all these things God will bring thee into judgment.'' The
words were set home upon his heart, by the divine Spirit, so that
he became a sound believer in the Lord Jesus Christ, and lived
in London many years, after the civil wars were over. He used
pleasantly to observe to Dr. Evans, Author of the Christian
Temper, that the bible was ?he means of saving his saul and
body too.

JSature and Providence.

£57

DETECTION AND PUNISHMENT OF A MURDERER.
[London Magazine.] *

During the persecution of the Protestants by the Roman
Catholics in the seventeenth century, some children were play-
ing on the banks of the Suir, near Golden, in the county of Tip-
perary w hen a man came up to them, knowing them to be born
of Prolesuftit parents, and with a pike, threw most of lliem in-
to the i iver, w here they were instantly drowned. One of the
childeru, however, a girl about eleven years of age, ran off and
escaped to CI nmell, thirteen miles distant.

At Waterford a sliip lay bound to America, taking in servants
and passengers : An agent of the Captain's was at Clonmell,
who, finding the child unprovided for, took her as an indented
servant, with many others in equal indigence. The Captain
sold her time to a plante r, a single young man. The rectitude of
her conduct, her amiable disposition, and comeliness of person,
so attracted her master's* affections, that alter her time was ex-
pired, he proposed to many her ; whirh proposal she, at length
acceded to, and they lived together in much happiness for sev-
eral years, during which slu brought him six children. She
then declined in health and spirits ; a deep melancholy over-
spread her mind, so as greatly to distress her husband. lie ob-
served her, particularly when she th.onght him asleep, to sigh
deeply, as if something very wvithu lay upon her spit its. Af-
ter much bureau and afiei donate atte-'iiion, she related to him
what she saw when she was a girl in liei.Mid, and said that scarce
a day or night had pa*>ed lor the h:st twelve mouths, hut she had
felt a pressure on her mind, and had, as it were, Ik aid distinct-
ly a v ice. sayintr, "Thou must go to heboid, and bring the
murderer of the children to justice." ' This, at times, s»he be-
lieved to he a div«r»e intimation, \et cm reasoning about it, she
thought the effecting of it by her to lie impossible, and c onse-
quently that th> apprehension of its being required by Cud must
be a delusion. Thus she was tossed to ami fro in her mind, un-
certain how to determine, and her agitatiow was such, that it
was apprehended her dissolution was near at hand. Her hus-
band strongly encouraged her to fulfil, what he had no doubt
was a divine injunction ; and as the Governor's brother was Lord
Lieutenant of Ireland, he thought it a suitable season the.i. He
w aited upon the Governor, who obliged him with letters of
recommendation to his brother and such gentlemen as would
enable her to bring this man to justice ; whose name she did
not know, but whose person was indelibly stamped on her mem*

-,;>rt The Wonder* of

wry. Her kind husband prepared every accommodation for
the voyage, encouraging her by his sympathizing tenderness, so
that in a few weeks she recovered her former health and spirits,
and embarked with suitable attendants on board a vessel for
Dublin. '

On her arrival, she w*rfted upon the Viceroy at the castle,
and delivered her letters. He entered warmly into the matter,
as worthy of public concern : yet he thought great secresy and
prudence requisite to effect the desired purpose. The Viceroy,
as a wise man, sent for the Judges, just then appointed for the
Munster circuit, and Viewed them the letters she had brought
from his brother, and requested they would interest themselves
iu this business. The Judges treated her with great respect,
and assured her of their vigorous assistance to bring the mur-
derer t » just ce; but as she did not know the man's name, nor
where he now dwelt, if living, they saw much difficulty in the
matter : H never, she was desiied not to communicate with
any one but the Viceroy and them>elvcs ; and as the assizes for
the county of Tipperary were very numerously attended, they
would take care she should be placed in such a convenient part
of the court-house every day atClonmell, that, if he should be
there, she could not but have an opportunity of seeing him. —
The day after her arrival there, and during the 6r-.t of their sit-
ting, she was placed b\ the direction of the Judges to the She-
riff, in a commodious place for her purpose. With anxious so-
licitude she watclicd for the person. At length a Jury was re-
turned to try a cause. On their names being called over to be
sworn, she saw a man come forward, whom she instantly knew
to be the person she came to prosecute, and then heard his
name called. At a suitable time she informed the Judges that
the man was in court, and gave them his name. The Judges
instantly adjourned the court, and sent the Sheriff to the
Jiiryman to meet them immediately at their lodgings, where
they soon arrived. On sitting down, one of the Judges said,
*• Madam, be pleased to relate to this gentleman what you
related to us, and the Lord Lieutenant, last week in Dublin Cas-
tle."

The Lady, looking the Juryman full in the face, said, " My
Lords, when I was a girl. 1 saw that man. now before you. throw
sevep little children into the river Suir," and proceeded with
the particulars. Whilst she was speaking, he grew pale, and
trembled exceedingly ; but, when she came to that part of her
relation, respecting feeling a pressure of mind for more than a
year, which she believed to be from God's requiring her to
come to Ireland, and endeavour to bring him to justice for
these murders, he was quite overcome^aud confessed his guilt,

* Nature mni Providence. 359

and the truth of all which she asserted. Ou this the Grand
Jury was sent for, and bills of indictment were found against
him. Next day he was tried, found guilty, and executed in
Clonmell.

She speedily returned to her husband and children, lived ma-
ny years after in great happiness with them, fully restored to
health ; in peace and serenity of mind. ^

This man had read his recantation from the Church of Rome,
had professed himself a Protestant, and thus become qualified to
be a Juryman.

A remarkable providence demonstrated in the deliverance of two
of the people called Quakers,from robbers.

[Arminian Mag. London.]

On the borders of Scotland, James Dickinson and Jane Fea-
ron were travelling on religious service, with a person who at-
tended as a guide to a town, which they proposed to reach that
night. But the weather being very inclement, and Jane much
fatigued,' they were desirous of accommodation, short of the
distance which they had at first intended to travel that day. —
Their guide assured them no such Inn would present itself : But
being weary, and coming to a decent looking house, James rode
up to it, and inquired if they could be accommodated. They
were told they could. This determined them to alight, con-
trary to the wish of their guide, who with a heavy heart, took
leave of them, saying, he could not be of further service to
them. He had remonstrated strongly against their calling
there at all, before they went up to the house ; but did not
choose to speak in the hearing of the fa/nily. They were intro-
duced into a small room, with a fire in it, which opened into
the common room where the family dwelt. There was every
appearance of tolerable accommodation ; the horses were taken
care of, and their wet things put to dry. A posset was made,
and a cold meat pie set for their supper : But, on their first sit-
ting down, they became very uneasy, which, however, each of
them not knowing how the other felt, they kept to themselves :
until, at last, Jane said her apprehensions were so great, and
her opinion of the family so bad, that she verily believed the
pie to be made of human flesh, which, however, J. Dickinson
did not think was the case, as he had eaten of the pie, and
thought it good. As they sat, Jane observed three ill looking
fellows come in, and, in a low voice, tell the Landlady they

5G0

The Wonders of

had good horses : she answered, " Aye, and good bags too."-
James's uneasiness increasing, his mind became closely enga-
ged to seek for the cause, and for divine counsel how to act. —
Under this exercise lie was induced to believe, that if they kept
close to the divine intimation, they should be preserved, and a
way would be made lor their escape. On this, he inquired
about their Iriflgings, saying they hud to write-, and should want
candles, and proposed to retire soon. They wrre *»hewti into
a chamber, on the side of the Yard, with two beds in it, but
without any bolt to the door. Observing a form, they tried it,
by setting one end to the door; it would just wed^e in between
it, and the foot of one of the bed*. Heine thus secured. Jane
sat down on one of the beds, and unnif^ted her distress ; wring-
ing her hands, and saying, she believed they should in that
house lose their lives. James sat down by her, desired Iht to
be still ; told her he had been under similar apprehensions, af-
ter they had entered the hous'\ that aftrr deep exercise, and
seeking for divine drres tion, his mind had been favoured with
that which had never deceived him, and believed, if they care-
fully minded its pointings, they should be directed how to es-
cape. On this they sat in perfect silenee some considerable
time, attentively waiting for light how to art. At length James
told her, the time for them to lly for their lives was now come;
and having observed a door opposite to that they came in at,
which led to a pair of stone stairs on the o^itside of the house
next the road, they beiievi d that was the way for them to es-
cape. They pulled off their ^iocs, and softly opened the door,
when they perceived by a li.ulrt through a chink, between the
first stone a: if! the house, a woman sharpening a large knife :
They went softly down the steps, and foruard on the ivad, uu-
til they v\cre out of hearing. They thus walked away as fast
as possible. V. hen they were distant about half a mile from
the house, under very heavy rain, they discovered a hovel,
where they tried to rc>t themselves, but found, by the painful
impressions renewed nn'their mind-', that this was not safe. —
Then, notwithstanding e\ces:.ive weariness, Jane being ready
to sink also, through discouragement, James urged the necessity
of exertion, under the linn hope that they should be preserved.
They proceeded until they came by the side of a stream, the
course of which they followed to a bridge, over which they at-
tempted to pass, hut were restrained when upon it. James said
that was not their way. So they returned, and went down the
course of the water, which, as they proceeded widened greatly.
James stopped at about the distance of half a mile from the
bridge, and told his companion, they must cross at that
place which exceedingly alarmed her, having given way to so

t

Nature and Providence. 561

much discouragement, that she could scarcely lay hold of any
hope that they should not totally sink under their present situa-
tion. She told James she apprehended, if they went into the
water they should be drowned : but he endeavoured to cheer
her, reminding her with the evidence he had been blessed with,
that they should be preserved, if they kept theirJh}th, having
their eye on divine direction : which he believed Bid led them
thus far, and that their way was through the water at that place,
and that they should also get safe. Whereupon, with the hold
of his arm, she ventured, and they got safe to the other side.
Walking on they came to a sand bank, and bene, sitting,down,
James said, " I ani not easy, we must go further: " Upon
which, Jane Fearon snid, " Well, I must go by thy faith, 1 now
know not what to do." Then proceeding a littl* way further,
they found another sand bank, wherein was a cavity. Here
they sat down. After they had continued some time, James
said, u I am now easy, and believe we are perfectly safe, feeling
in my heart a song of thanksgiving and praise." Jane replied,
" I am so far from that, I cannot say, The Lord have mercy
upon me." 'When they had been there about half an hour,
they heard the noise cf some people on the opposite side of the
river : Upon which, J. Dickinson, finding Jane alarmed, and
thence fearing they should be discovered, softly said to her,
" Our lives depend upon our silence." Attentively hearkening,
they heard them frequently say, " Seek them, Keeper," and be-
lieved they were the men they had seen in the house, accompa-
nied with a dog : That the dog, refusing to go over the bridge,
had followed the scent of their feet along the river side to the
place where they had crossed, where stopping, the people re-
peatedly cried, " Seek them, Keeper." This they not only
heard, but saw the people with a lantern. They also heard
one of them say, "There theyt crossed the river? and the re-
ply of another, "That's impossible, unless the devil took them
over, for the river is brimful." After wearying themselves a
considerable time in their search, they went away, and were
seen no more. When day-light appeared, they saw a man on
a hill at some distance, looking about him in every direction :
They continued quiet in their retreat until some time after
sun-rise, when, taking a. view of their situation, they discovered,
that, under the first sana-bank they might have been seen from
the other side of the river ; whereas, the place they remained
in was shaded from view ; an advantage they had been ignorant
of as they could not make the observation the night hefore. —
How to recover their horses, saddle-bags, &c. excited some con-
sideration. James Dickinson proposed that they should re-
turn for them ; which was done, after he had kindly replied to
' 71.

562 Flit frontiers of

his companion's suggestions of fear, that he believed horses and
bags would be ready for them, and that no questions would be
asked, nor should llu v see an individual of the people they had
seen the precf-dinir cvjitinir. Still Jai.e waf alVi.it! , nil encour-
aged again by J. D. who told her she might safely venture, being
convinced by that which never deceived him. They returned
to the hoiiflgj| found their horses standing in the stable saddled,
the bags u|»n them, their clothes dried and laid ready to put on,
and they saw no person but an old woman sitting in a comer
by the fire-side, whom they did not remember to have seen the
night before. They asked her what they had to pay, dischar-
ged it, and proceeded on their journey. Some time after, James
Dickinson, travelling the same w ay on religious service, passed
by the place, where the house had stood, found it pulled down
and totally destroyed. On enquiring what was the cause of the
house being thus in rains ; he was told, that, a short time after
he and Jane were there, some travellers who were observed to
go there to lodge, were missing, and the house having been long
under a bad name, the people being strongly suspected of mur-
dering many that went there, the neighborhood rose with a gen-
eral consent and beset the house. They took up the people,
and, on searching the premises, found the bodies of the above
who were missing, with many others in different states of decay,
who had been evidently murdered, with some parts of their
bodies wanting ; much clothes were also found, supposed to be-
long to the murdered. The people were tried, five were exe-
cuted, and the house razed to the ground.

.4 remarkable Provid,cncee evinced by the. deliverance of a xcholt
nation from the joint attack of two formidable powers. Was
not the finger of the same Gojf in this who presided at the Red
Sea,

[Arminian Magazine, London.]

In 1672, the Dutch were saved by an extraordinary event,
at a time when nothing but the interposition of Providence,
could have preserved them. In tha^ memorable year, when
Lewis the XlVth came down upon that country like a flood, he
proposed that at the same time he should enter the province of
Holland by land, his fleet in conjunction with that of Great Bri-
tain, should make a descent on the side of the Hague bv sea.—
When the united fleets came up within sight of Schevefing, the
Hde though very regular at other times, just when they wer>-

Nature and Prov&cnce.

preparing to land, changed its usual course, and stopped for
several hours. The next morning the French and English
fleets were dispersed by a violent storm.

Those who hate the very name of a miracle, (although in re-
ality the}f suppose the greatest of all miracles, that is, the tying
up the hands of the Almighty, from disposing events according
to his will) pretend, "This was only an extraordinary ebb."
But this very ebb was an extraordinary Providence, as the de-
scent, which must have terminated in the destruction of the
Republic, was to be punctually at that and no other time. But
that this retrogradatiou of the sea, was no natural event, is as
certain as any thing in nature.

Many writers of unquestionable varacity might be produced,
to confirm the truth of the fact. I shall only cite one, who was
at the Hague but three years after it happeued. " An extraor-
dinary thing lately happened at the Hague : I had it from many
eye witnesses. The English fleet appeared in sight of Scheve-
ling, making up to the shore. The tide turned : but they made
no doubt of landing the forces the next flood, where they were
like to meet no resistance. The state sent to the prince for
men, to hinder the descent, but he could spare few, having the
French near him. So the country was given for lost ; their ad-
miral de Ruyter, with their fleet being absent. The flood re-
turned, which the people expected would end in their ruin : but
to the amazement of them all, after the sea had flowed two or
three hours, an ebb of many hours succeeded, which carried
the fleet again to sea. And before the flood returned, de Ruy-
ter came in view. This they esteemed no less than a miracle
wrought for their preservation." Bishop Burnett's History ef
his own times. Book II.

An account of a man who lay in a trance, and had a view of tlte
fiery lake and of heaven. .

[Armiuian Magazine, London.]

John Taylor, of Bewdley, in Worcestershire, a young man,
about three and twenty years old, lived utterly without God in
the world, till on Tuesday, Jan. 28, 1783, he was drinking at
one Thomas Pouutney's hou§e, to such excess, that he was much
disordered. The landlord observing this, refused to draw him
any more ale. He then, after many oaths and imprecations up-
on himself, rose up to go away. But as he was going out of the
door, he dropt down. Thomas Pountney being near, caught

4

a*,]. The H o niltrs vf

bim ; he was stiff as a dead man, his eyes set wide .open, and his
teeth quite closed. They laid him upon a bed. He soon begin
to grind his teeth, while his face was distorted, and he was con-
vulsed all over : and that so violently, that it was ,as much as
four persons could do to hold him. Twice indeed, for a little
space, he shewed a composed and quiet countenance. But af-
ter a short time, the violent convulsions, and all other symptoms
returned. Thus he continued, from nine o'clock on Tuesday
night, till seven on Thursday evening. He then came to him-
self, but being unable to speak, nindi.1 signs for a pen and ink, and
having wrote, "Take me home to die," presently fainted away.
He was removed home, but could not compose himself to sleep
for a fortnight, which together with the terror that still remain-
ed upoQ his mind, reduced his body to the most deplorable state
of weakness that can be imagined.

Mr. Hanby, (who took the account from his mouth, on Feb-
ruary the 25th) asked him, whether he remembered being at
Thomas Pountney's ? lie said, " I perfectly remember every
circumstance, till the moment that I fell down, as I was going
out of the door." But what became of you then said Mr. Hau-
by? "As soon as I dropped down, said he, I fell into a dread-
ful, deep pit, and when I came to the bottom, I was seized by
many devils, who rejoiced over me, and dragged me away: 1
struggled with them in the greatest agonies, w hile they were
pushing and hauling to get me into the fire.9' I asked him, what
be meant? He said, ." The fire is a vast mountain; 1 could
see no end of it. I seemed to be thirty or forty yards from it.
The devils strove to drag me to it: but they could not move
me from the place that they dragged me to at first." Did you see
any persons in the fire, or heor any remarkable noi^e? "I saw
no persons; but 1 heard the most dreadful screams and lamen-
tations." How did the place upon which you stood appear:
" As black as pitch, with a darkness peculiar to itself, so that 1
could see nothing but the devils that surrounded me^and the
world of fire before me." But did you feel any pain ? At this
question he fell a trembling, turned pale, and seemed to be
struck with an universal horror. When he could speak he said,
" O yes ! 1 felt much misery, pain and anguish, that had I been
in possession of the whole* world. 1 would have given it for a mo-
ment's ease." How long do you suppose you remained there?
"O, a long time; till an angel came, at wl ose appearance the
devils fled, and 1 found myself perfectly easy and wonderfully
happy." The angel said, "Your wickedness has brought yon
to this place." I followed hnn a little way : hut he then left me,
and the devils came back again with dreadfuPyells, and dragged
me back to the place I was at before. They strove again to

Nature and Frovidencc.

push mc into the fire. But I struggled; and they were not suf-
fered to prevail." In what form did the devils appear? "Ma-
ny of them appeared like bears, lions, and other wild beasts."
How long do you suppose you were tormenled a second time?
He answered, with the same emotion as bifore." O, a great
while! But the angel came again, and the moment 1 saw him
the tormenters fled, and I felt no pain at all; till he gave me up
to be tormented a third time, and then my tormenters returned,
and all my pain and anguish returned,, with the same violence as
before." How long in all do you imagine you remained in this
place of torment? "* It seemed to me to be five or six years."
How dreadful must that pain be, which though it really lasted
not two days, appeared to endure so many years. O what
must those pains be, when continued to all eternity.

Did the angel appear any more ; " He did, and to my un-
speakable joy, not only the devils Aed away, but I was permit*
ted to follow him to the very gates of heaven. Yea, and to look
into it." Did you see any persons there"? "1 saw transparent
persons, very beautiful and glorious, and heard them sing in a
manner I cannot describe. This I heard long before I came to
the gates. I would fain have gone in, but the angel told me, I
must go back and tell my brethren what I had seen." I said.
" And must I leave my good angel." In saying those words his
spirit returned.

Since that time he is greatly changed, attends all the ordinan-
ces of God, and has left the company of all his wicked acquain-
tance. But he seems still ignorant of the power of religion. —
This is a mystery indeed ? It is well if the last end of this man,
be not worse thhn the first !

An astonishing account of an extraordinary beautiful woman, of
whom, in the narrative it is intimated, tliat she had leagued with
sat an to aid her in becoming the most beautiful woman of Eu-
rope. So insatiable is the desire of some ladies to excel in this
captivating qualification. With such, God is not well pleased,,
for such persons adore themselves instead of their Creator.

In the duke of Sully's Memoirs, book the tenth, there is a
very remarkable account concerning the lady of the constable
of France, then (in the year 1599) in the flower of her age'f
and supposed to be one of the most beautiful women in Europe.
The account was given by several ladies who were then at her
house. She was conversing cheerfully with them in her closet,
when one of her women came in, who seemed to be under great

The Wonders of

emotion, and said, " My lady, a gentleman has just entered your
anti chamber, who is very tall, and quite black, and desires lo
speak with you. He says it is about affairs of great consequence,
which he cannot communicate to any but you." At every cir-
cumstance relating to this extraordinary courier, which the wo-
man was ordered to describe minutely, the lady was seen to turn
pale, and was so oppress* J with horror, that she was hardly
able to tell her woman, to intreat the gentleman, ni her name, to
defer his visit to another time. This message she delivered ; but
he answered in a tone which filled her with astonishment, " If
your lady will not come to me, I will go and seek her in her clo-
set." At last she resolved to go to him ; but with all the marks
of deep despair. In a, short time she returned to her company,
bathed in tears and half dead with dismay. She was able only
to speak a few words and take leave of them ; particularly the
three ladies w ho were her friends, and to assure them she should
never see them more. That instant she was seized with exqui-
site pains : all her beauty was gone. Every f ature of her face
was changed : and she became a spectacle of horror. At the
end of three days she died in the utmost agonies both of body
and mind.

" Of this story (the Duke very gravely adds) the wise thought
as they ought to think." Suppose the story be true ; suppose
it be related just as it occurred (and there is no shadow of rea-
son to imagine the contrary,) all wise men ought to think, that
God permitted an evil spirit to put an end to the life of an evil
woman.

An account of the pleasing and wonderful dream of Mr. John
Townsend, of IVeymouih, Pennsylvania, June 25, 1609.

[Eng. Meth. Mag.]

At the last visit my dear mother made in Bethlehem, April,
1760 where she stayed four weeks, she often spoke of her death
as at no great distance ; and frequently said if she could not
see me in her last illness, she would beg the Lord's permission
to visit me after her decease. 1 besought her not to do it, al-
leging my fearful disposition, telling her 1 was certain I could
not support such a visitant. Why, my dear, said she, surely
you would not be? afraid of a happy spirit. I still affirmed
that I could not bear it, and entreated her not to come if she
had Irave ; hpr answer was. See you I must, and therefore if it

Nature and Br&v'ukme, dtj?

is permitted, I will visit you when asleep, and converse with you
in such a manner that you shall have no uneasy sensations.
, k On the 2 1 st of September, the same year my dear mother de-
parted* this life as a happy 'pardoned, reconciled sinner, aud en-
tered into the joy of her Lord. About ten days after her de-
cease, I went to bed very much depressed, and could not be re-
conciled to my loss, and lamented my stay behind in this vale
of tears. In this state of mind I fell asleep, and had the fol-
lowing dream.

It seemed to me that I was walking under a row of trees, and,
looking upwards, saw my mother gently descending till she stood
before me ; her robes were white as snow, and flowed upon her
feet, and her countenance shone with so much lustre, that 1 could
not support the brightness long together : it resembled the sun
at noon-day, yet 1 perfectly knew her, and was struck with rev-
erential awe. She seated herself under a tree, and beckoned
me to sit by her. I obeyed without speaking, for I was all amaze-
ment ; she broke silence and said, " My dear child, I have ask-
ed our Saviour and have obtained permission to visit you. I
have perceived the concern you are under — 1 am here, and
ready to answer any questions you may "be desirous to ask." She
stopped and I repeatedly looked at her without any sensation of
fear. The first question I asked her was, if she had an easy de-
parture ; for I knew she had the fear of death remaining after
she had obtained true grace. She answered, " My dear, I was
insensible to the pains of death, my dear Saviour had taken,
away sin, which is the sting of death. As soon as my soul left
the body, I came, as a poor pardoned sinner, to the throne of
grace, and met with a most gracious reception ; He (meaning
our Lord) then took a book in his hand, and held it open, so
that all the saints and angels could read my name, which was
written in large characters therein ; and then our Lord pronoun-
ced these words, 4 Mary Attwood, because thou hast kept the
words of my patience, I have also kept thee in the hour of temp-
tation. Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.'"

My mother then paused, and seemed to wait another question,
here my curiosity was great concerning her state of blessedness,
but fearing to ask a description, I only said are you happy ? in
hopes she would tell me the manner of her happiness, but, with
a sweet serious look and lone of voice, she said, " I am not per-
mitted^ tell you what my degree of happiness is — enough, that
I am completely happy : more would do me no good, and less
would not satisfy me. She then took occasion from my ask-
ing this question, to rebuke my curiosity, by charging me never
to enter too deeply into conversation on dre life to come, as she
and I had frequently done. t: My dear, (said she.) do not think

I

£&> The H'onders <tf "

too much on the manner and ways of eternity ; it is beyond your
conception : j>oor mortals attempt to describe what they can-
not comprehend. The tongues of men or of angels cannot de-
scribe the inexpressible happiness of the blessed above." She
said, I besought our Saviour to support you under yo fir los».
Tour companions behaved very tenderly to you. I stood by
when they informed you of my decease." She then spoke as
follows : " My dear child, I beseech you not to depend, in a light
manner, on our Saviour's grace, mercy, and long suffering ; for
he will not bear so much from his children as from worldlings.
You have now lost your mother, and are become an orphan ; do
not put your trust in any one but our Saviour, take him for-your
father, your friend, your one and all : he has promised to supply
my place unto you, and he will do it a hundred-fold : make him
your only object, and have no other ; but above all, let his suf-
ferings be of weight to your heart. Jesus1 sufferings ! Jeans'
death and sufferings ! (she repeated holding up her hands to
heaven,) Jesus' death and sufferings ! O what powerful words !
We fall prostrate and adore him for his meritorious death and
sufferings ! Do not be impatient, my dear child, in two or three
hours, according to my reckoning, you will be with me." Sbe
then seemed desirous to go away : I begged her to stay a little
longer : her atiswer was, " No, though you are my child, I can-
not stay from my heaven for your sake." I asked her whether
she would not come again ? She said " No, this once, but not
again." Her last words were, that she was called, and must go
to her order. She then ascended in a track of light, I looked
after her till she«disappeared ; and then awoke with so power-
ful an impression on my mind, that I cannot but think that thif
was a vision rather than a common dream.

*2 description of the Clock and Clock-House, at Strasbvrg in

Germany.

[Meth. Mag.— Eng.]

Herein nine things arc to be considered, whereof eight are
in the wall ; the ninth (and that the most wonderful) stands on
the ground, three feet from the wall. This is a great . globe of
the heavens, perfectly described, in which are three motions ;
one of the whole globe, which displays the whole heavens, and
moves about from the east to the west in twenty-four hours :
the second is of the sun, which runs through the signs there de-
scribed, once every year : the third is of the moon, which run>

Nature and Providence*

S69

ber course in twenty-eight days. So that in this globe you may
view the motions of the whole heavens, the motion of the sun
and the moon, every minute <)f an hour, the rising and falling of
every star (amongst which stars are the makers of this work,
Dassipodius and Wolkinstenius ) described. The instruments of
these motions are hid in the body of a pelican, which is portrait-
ed under the globe. The pole is jifted up to the elevation of
Strasburg, and noted by a fair star made in brass : the zenith is
decfared by an angel placed in the midst of the meridian. The
second thing to be observed (which is the first on the wall) are
two great circles one within another, the one eight feet, the
other nine feet broad ; the outmost motfes from the north to the
south once in a year, and hath two angels, one on the north side,
which points every day in the week ; the other on the south
side, which points what day shall be one half year after. The
inner circle moves from south to north, once in a hundred years,
and hath many things described about it ; as the year of the
World, the year of our Lord, the circle of the Sun, the proces-
tions of the equinoctials, with the change of the solstitial Points,
which things fall out by the motions which are called Trepida-
sions ; the leap year, the moveable feasts, and the dominical let-
ter, or golden number, as it turns every year. There is an im-
moveable index, which encloses', for every year, all these things
within it i the lower part of which index is joined to another
round circle, which is immoveable, wherein the province of
Alsatia is fairly described, and the city of Strasburg.

On both sides of these circles, On the wall, the eclipses of the
sun and moon are, which are to come for many years, even so
many as the wairmight contain. The third thing, a little above
this, is a weekly motion of the planets, as they lame the day ;
as, on Sunday, the sun is drawn about in his chariot, accordingly
as the day is spent ; and so drawn into another place, that be-
fore he be full in, you have Monday, that is, the moon clear forth
and the horses of Mars' chariot putting forth their heads : and
so it is for every day in the week. On this side there are noth-
ing but clum pictures to garnish the wall. The fourth thing is
a dial for the minutes of the hour, so that you see every minute
pass. Two beautiful pictures of two children, are joined to
either side of this ; he, on the north side has a sceptre in his
hand, and when the clock strikes, he orderly tells every stroke ;
he, on the south side hath an hour-glass in his hand, which runs
just with the clock, and when the clock has stricken, he turns
his glass. The first thing above the minute d^^Js the dial for
the hour, containing the half parts also : the oufjknost circum-
ference contains the hours ; but within it is a curious and per-
fect astrolabe, whereby is shewn the motion of every planet, his

72

jfc7*« 9V*nfcn of

aspect, andin what sign, what degree, and what hour every on*
is in, every hour of the day : the opposition likewise of the sun
and moon, and the head and tail of the dragon. And because
the night darkens not the sun, nor the day the moon, or other
planets, therefore their courses are here exactly seen at all times.
The sixth thing, is a circle wherein are the two signs of the
moon's rising and falling; at two several hollow places it is seen
at what state she s ; and her age is declared by an index, which
is wholly turned al>out once in every month. The seventh
thing, are four little hells, whereon the quarters of the hour are
struck ; at the first quarter comes forth a little boy, and strikes
the first bell with an apple, s.n<l so goes and stays at the fourth
bell, until the next quarter : then ccmes a lusty youth, and be
with a dart strikes two be";"!:, <;iid succeeds into the place of the
child ; at the third comes iVni: :i mail i:i arms, with a halberd in
his hands, and strikes three bells, he succeeds into the place of
tin* you;sg man; at the fourth quarter, comes an old man with a
stair, having a crook at the end, and he with much ado, being old.
strike s the four bells, and stands at the fourth quarter until the
next quarter : immediately to strike the clock, comes death, in
the room above the other, foi this is the eighth thing : and this
understand, that at each quarter he comes forth, to catch each of
those former ages away with him ; but at a contrary side, in the
same room where he is, comes forth Christ, and drivjes him in :
but when the last quarter is heard, Christ gives him leave to go
to the bell which is in the midst, and so he strikes with his bone,
according to the hour ; and he stands at the bell, as the old man
doth at his quarter-bell, till the next quarter, and then they go in
both together. The ninth and last thing in this right line, is the
tower at the top of the work, wherein is a noble, pleasant chime,
which goes at three, seven, and eleven o'clock, each time a (lif-
erent tune ; and at Christmas, Easter and Whitsuntide, a thanks-
giving unto Christ: and when this chime has done, the cock
(which stands on the top of the tower, on the north side of the
main work) having stretched out his neck, shook his comb, and
clapped his wings twice, crows twice ; and this he doth so shrill
and naturally, as would make any man wonder : and if they
choose, who attended the clock, they can make hi in crow more
times. In this tower, are conveyed all the instruments of those
motions, which are in the foresaid things.

.2 description of ,/.c Day of Judg/mut, the ( ''jilting of Cbrn'.
and of the General Conflagration.

^n»TUNLv then;i^ uothiug- in (he whole course vf nafuiv."-

V

Nature and Providence.

571

of human affairs, so great and so extraordinary, as the two last
scenes of them, the coming of our Saviour, and the burning of
the world. If we could draw in our minds the picture of these,
in true and lively colours, we should scarce be able to attend to
any thing else, or ever to divert our imagination from these two
objects : for what can more affect us, than the greatest glory that
ever was visible upon earth, and at the same time, the greatest
terror ; a God descending at the head of an army of angels, and
a burning world under his feet?

These are things truly above expression, and not only so, but
so different and remote from our ordinary thoughts and concep-
tions, that he that comes nearest to a true descriptioufpf them,
shall be looked upon as -the most extravagant. 'Tis om unhap-
piness, to be so much used to little trifling things in this life, that
when any thing great is represented to us, it appears fantastical,
an idea made by some contcmplatirc or melancholy person. I
will not venture therefore, without premising some grounds, out
of Scripture, to say. any thing concerning this glorious appear-
ance. The coming of our Saviour, being wholly out of the
way of natural causes, it is reasonable, we should take all the
directions we can from Scripture, that we may give a more fit-
ting and just account of the sacred pomp.

I need not quote those parts of Scripture, that prove the Se-
cond Coming of our Saviour in general, or his return to the earth
again, at the end of the world, Matt. xxiv. 30, 31, Acts i. 11,
and iii. 20, 21 ; Apoc. i. 6, Heb. ix. 28. No christian can doubt
of this, it is so often repeated in the sacred writujfcs; butthe man-
ner and circumstances of his ' coining, or of his ^Jjpearance, are
the things we now enquire into. And, in the first place, we may
observe, that the Scripture tells us. our Saviour will come in
flaming fire, and with an host of mighty angels; so says St. Paul
to the Thessalonians. "The Lord Jesus shall be revealed from
heaven with his mighty angels, in flaming fire, taking vengeance
on them that know not God, and obey not the gospel of our
Lord Jesus Christ." In the second place, our Saviour says,
Matt. xvi. 27, " The Son of Man shall come in the glory of his
Father, with his angels." From which two places we may learn,
first, that the appearance of our Saviour will be will) flames of
fire. Secondly, with an host of angels. Thirdly, in the glory
of his Father : jiy which glory of the Father, I think it under-
stood, that throne of glory, represented by Daniel for tiie An-
cient of days. For our Saviour speaks here'tp the Jews, and
probably in a way intelligibly to them; and the£h>ry of the Far
ther, which they were most likely to understand, would be either
the glory wherein God appeared at Mount Sinai, upon the giv-
ing of the law, whereof the apostle speaks largely to the He*

5J2 The Wonders of.

'brews, chap. xii. 18 — 21 ; or that which Daniel represents him
in, at the day of judgment, and this latter being more proper to
the subject of our Saviour's discourse, it is more likely, this ei
pression refers to it. Give me leave, therefore to set down that
description of the Father upon his throne, from the prophet
Daniel vii. 9, " And I beheld till the thrones were set,* and the
Ancients of days did sit, whose garment was white as snow, and
the hair of his head, like the pure wool : his throne was like the
fiery flame, and his wheels like the burning fire.* A fiery stream
issued and came forth from before him, thousand thousands min-
istered oito him, and ten thousand times ten thousand stood be-
fore him. With this throne of the glory of the Father, let us,
if you please, compare the throne of the Son of God as it was
seen by St. John in the Apocalyse, chap. iv. 2, fac. " And im-
mediately I was in the spirit, and, behold, a throne was set in
heaven, and one sat on the throne. And there was a rainboir
round about the throne, in appearance like to an emerald. And
out of the throne proceeded lightnings, and thunderings, and
voices, he. and before the throne was a sea of glass like unto
crystal."

In the representations, you have some beams of the glory
of the Father ancj, of the Son, which may be partly a direction
to us, in conceiving the lustre of our Saviour's appearance. Let
us further observe, if you please, how external nature will be
affected at the sight of God, or of his approaching glory. The
Scripture often $Jtes notice of this, aftd in terms very high and
eloquent. The^salgiist seems to have loved that subject above
others : to set out the greatness of the day of the Lord, and the
consternation of all nature at that time. He throws about his
thunder and lightning, makes the hills to melt like wax at the
presence of the Lord, and the very foundations of the earth
to tremble, as you may see in the 18th Psalm, aud the 97th, and
104, and several others which are too long to be here inserted.
So the prophet Habakkuk, in his prophetic prayer, chap, iii,
hath many ejaculations to the like purpose. And the prophet
Nahum says, " The mountains quake at him, and the earth is
burnt up at his presence : yea, the world and all that dwell
therein."

But more particularly, as to the face of nature, just before
the coming of our Saviour, that may be best collected from the
signs of his conning. Those all meeting together, help to pre-
pare and make ready a theatre, fit for ah angry God to come
down upon. The countenance of the heavens will be dark and

gloomy ; and a veil drawn over the face of the Sun. The earth
I a disposition every where to break into open flames. The

m Hh rauitred Unto fogWfo, coti dam.

\

jYahtre and Providence. £73

lops of the mountains smoking ; the rivers dry : earthquakes in
several places ; the sea sunk and retired into its deepest chan-
nels, and roaring as against some mighty storm. These things'
will make the day dead and melancholy ; but the night scenes
will have more of horror in them, when the blazing stars appear,
like so many furies, with their lighted torches threatening to set
all on fire. For I do not doubt but the comets will bear a part
in this tragedy, and have something extraordinary in them at
that time ; either as to number, or bigness or nearness to the
, earth. Besides, the air will be full of flaming meteors, and of
unusual forms and magnitudes ; balls of fire rolling in the sky,
and pointed lightnings darted against the earth ; mi A with claps
of thunder, and unusual noise from the clouds. The moon and
the stars will be confused and irregular, both in their lights and
motions ; as if the whole frame of the heavens was out of order,
and all the laws of nature were broken or expired.

When all things are in this languishing or dying pasture, and
the inhabitants of the earth under the fear of their last end, the
hervens will open on a sudden, and the glory of God will ap-
pear. A glory surpassing the sun in its greatest radianty ; which
though we cannot describe, we may suppose it will bear some
resemblance, or proportion, with those representations that are
made in Scripture, of God upon his throne. This wonder in
the heavens, whatsoever its form may be, will presently attract
the eyes of all the cbristain world. Nothing can more affect
them than an object so unusual, and so illustrious ; abd that
brings along with it their last destiny, and will put a period to
all human affairs. #

Some of the ancients have thought, that this coming of our
Saviour, would be in the dead of the night, and his first glorious
appearance in the midst of darkness, 2 Peter Hi. 10. God is
often described in Scripture, as light or fire, with darkness round
about him. " He bowed the heavens, and came down, and
darkness was under his feet. He made darkness his se-
cret place. His pavilllon round about him were dark wa-
ters and thick clouds of the skies. At the brightness that
was before him, the thick clouds passed," Psalm xviii. 9, 11, 12.
And when God appeared upon Mount Sinai, the " mountains
burnt with fire unto the midst of heaven, with darkness, clouds,
and thick darkness,9' Deut. iv. 11; or, as the apostle expresses
it, "with blackness, and darkness, and tempest," Heb. xii. 18.
Light is never more glorious than when surrounded with dark-
ness ; and it may be, tlje sun at the time, will be so obscure, as
to make little distinction of day and night. But, however, this *
divine light , overbears, and distinguishes itself from common
light, though it be at mid-day. It was about noon tliat the light

Tte Wonder* of

shined from heaven, and surrounded St. Paul, Acts xxii. 6.—
And it was in the day-time that St. Stephen saw the heavens
opened, Acts vii, 55, 56, " Saw the glory of God, and Jesus
standing at the right hand of God." This light which flows
from a more vital source, be it day or night, will 'always be pre-
dominant.

That appearance of God upon Mount Sinai, which we men-
tioned, if we reflect upon it, will help us a little to form an idea
of the last appearance. When God had declared that be would
come down in the sight of the people, the text says, " There
were thunders, and lightnings, and a thick cloud upon the mount,
and the voice of the trumpet exceeding loud ; so that all the
people that was in the camp trembled. And Mount Sinai was
altogether on a smoke, because the Lord descended upon it in
fire. And the smoke thereof ascended as the smoke of a fur-
nace, and the whole Mount quaked greatly." If we look upon
this Moun| as an epitome of the earth, this appearance gives U6
an imperfect resemblance of that which is to come. Here are
the several parts, or main strokes of it ; first, the heavens and
the earth in smoke and fire ; then, the appearance of the Divine
glory, and the sound of a trumpet in the presence of angels.
$ut as the second coming of our Saviour is a triumph over his
enemies, and an entrance into his kiugdom, and is acted upon
the theatre of the whole earth ; so we are to suppose, in pro-
portion, all the parts and circumstances of it, more great and
magnificent.

When, therefore, this mighty God returns again to that earth,
where he had been once ill treated, not Mount Sinai only, but
all the mountains of the earth, and all the inhabitants of the
world, will tremble at his presence. At the first opening of the
heavens, the brightness of his person will scatter the dark clouds,
and shoot streams of light throughout all the air. But that first
appearance being far from the earth, will seem to be only a
great mass of light, without any distinct form ; till by nearer
approaches, this bright body shews itself to be an army of an-
gels with this King of kings for their leader. Then you may
imagine, how guilty mankind will tremble and be astonished ;
and while they aae gazing at this heavenly host, the voice of the
archangel is heard, the thrill sound of the trumpet reaches their
ears, and this gives the general alarm to all the world : For he
cometh, for he cometh, they cry, to judge the earth. The cru-
cified God is returned in glory, to take vengeance upon his ene-
mies : not only upon those who pierced his sacred body with
nails, and with a spear, at Jerusalem ; but those also that
pierce him every day by their profaneness, and hard speeches,
concerning his person, and his religion. Now they see that

Urod whom they have mocked and blasphemed, laughed at Ms
meanness, or at his threatenings ; they see him, and are con-
founded with shame and fear ; and in the bitterness of their an-,
guish and despair, call for the mountains to fall upon them, Rev.
vi. 16, 17. "Flee into the clefts of the rocks, and into the
caves of the earth, for fear of the Lord ;" Isa. ii. 10, " and
the glory of his Majesty when he ariseth to shake terribly the
earth."

As it is not possible for us to express or conceive the dread
and majesty of this appearance ; so neither can we, on die other
hand, express the passions and consternation of the people that
behold it. These things exceed the measure of human affairs,
and of human thoughts ; we have neither words nor compari-
sons to make them known .by. The greatest pomp and* mag-
nificence of the emperors of the east, in their armies, in their
triumphs, in their inaugurations, are but like the sports and en-
tertainment of children, if compared with this solemnity. When
God condescends to an external glory, with a visible train and
equipage ; when from all. the provinces of his vast and bound-
less empire, he summons his nobles, as I may so say, the several
orders of angels and archangels, to attend his person ; though
we cannot tell the form or manner of his appearance, we know
there is nothing in our experience, or in the whole history of this
world, that can be a just representation of the least part of it.
No armies so numerous as the host of heaven. And in the
midst of those bright legions, 'in a flaming chariot will sit the
Son of man, when be comes to be glorified in his saints, and
triumph over his enemies : and instead of the wild noises of the
rabble, which make a great part of our worldly state, this bles-
sed company will breathe their hallelujahs into the open air, and
repeated acclamations of " Salvation to God, which sits upon
the throne, and to the Lamb," Apoc. vii. 10. " Nbw is come
salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the
power of his Christ," chap, xii; 10.

But I leave the rest to our silent devotion and admiration. —
Only give me leave, whilst this object is before our eyes, to
make a short reflection upon the wonderful history of our Sav-
iour, and the different states which that sacred person, within the
compass of our knowledge, hath undergone. We now see him
coming in the clouds, in glory and triumph, surrounded with in-
numerable angels : This is the same person, who so many hun-
dreds of years ago, entered . Jerusalem with another sort of
equipage, mounted upon an ass*s colt, while the little people*
and the multitude cried, " Hosanna the son of David."- Njay,
this is the same person, that, at his first coming into the world,,
was laid in a manger, instead of a cradle, a naked babe dropt in

The Wonders oj

a crib at Bethlehem, Lake ii. 12, his mother not having where-
withal to get her a better lodging, where she was to be deliver-
ed of this sacred burthen. If this Divine person had fallen
from the clouds in a mortal body, clothed in flesh and blood, and
spent his life here amongst sinners ; that alone had been an in-
finite condescension : bat as if it had not been enough to take
upon him human nature, he was content, for many, months, to
live the life of an animal or plant, in the dark cell of a woman's
womb. " This is the Lord's doings, it is marvellous in our
eyes !"

4 Neither is this all that is wonderful in the story of our Sav-
iour. If the manner of his death be compared with his present
glory, we shall think either the one or the other incredible.—
Look up first into the Heavens ; see bow they bow under him,
and receive a new light from the glory of his presence ; then
look down upon the earth, and see a naked body, hanging upon
a cursed tree in Golgotha, crucified between two thieves, wound-
ed, spit upon, mocked, abused. Is it possible to believe, that
one and the same person can act or suffer such different parts?
That he, who is now Lord and Master of all nature, not only of
death and hell, and the powers of darkness, but of all princi-
palities in heavenly places, is the same infant Jesus, the same
crucified Jesus, of whose life and death the christian records
gives us an account ? The history of this person, is the wonder
of this world ; and not of this world only, but of the angel?
above, that desire to look into it, 1 Peter i. 11, 12.

Let us now return to our subject. We left the earth in a lan-
guishing condition, ready to be made a burnt offering, at the
beck of its offended Lord. When Sodom was to be de-
stroyed, Abraham interceded with God, that he would spare it
for the righteous' sake ; and David interceded to save his guilt-
less peorjle from (rod's judgments and the destroying angel :
But here is ho intercessor for mankind in this last extremity ;
none to interpose, where the mediator of our peace, is the party
offended. Shall then, the righteous perish with the wicked ?
" Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?" - Or if the
righteous be translated and delivered from this fire, what shall
become of innocent children and infants ? Must these all be
given up to the merciless flames, as a sacrifice to Moloch ? And
their tender flesh, like burnt incense, send up fumes to feed the
nostrils of evil spirits ? Can the God of Israel smell a sweet
savour from such sacrifices ? The greater half of mankind is
made of infants and children, and if the wicked be destroyed,
yet these lambs, what have they done ? Are there no bowels
of compassion for such an harmless multitude ? Yes, the right-
eous Lord, who loveth righteousness, will "say as Daniel said

Nature and Providence. 577

in the days of bis flesh, suffer the little children to come unto
me, for of such is the kingdom of heaven. But not so with .
the wicked whose resurrection is now effected. They now
begin to realise that scripture spoken by the prophet Daniel,
that they shall rise with shame and everlasting contempt. Now
roars the deafning, jarring, appalling thunders of Gabriel's
trtfmp to earth's remotest bounds — now God begins to rain
snares, fire and brimstone upon the ungodly. That flood of
fire begins to pour from heaven which is to consume this ho-
locaust.

.Imagine all nature now standing in a silent expectation to re-
ceive its last doom ; the tutelary and destroying angels to have
theiji instructions ; every thing to lie ready for the fatal hour ;
and then after a little silence, all the host1 of heaven to raise
their voice, and sing aloud, " Let God arise, let his enemies be
scattered : As smoke is driven away, so drive them away ; as
wax melteth before the fire, so let the wicked perish at the pres-
ence of God." And upon this, as upon a signal given, all the
sublunary world breaks into flames, and all the treasuries of
fire are opened iu heaven, and in earth.

The conflagration begins. If one should now go about to
represent the world on fire, with all the confusions that necessa-
rily must be in nature, and iu mankind upon that occasion, it
would seem to most men a romantic scene : yet, we are sure
there must be such a scene. " The heavens will pass away with
a great noise, and the elements will melt with a fervent heat,
and all the works of the earth will be burnt up." And these
things cannot come to pass without the greatest disorders im-
aginable, both in the minds of men, and in external nature, aud
the saddest spectacles that eye can behold. We think it a great
matter to see a single person burnt alive ; here are millions
shrieking in the flames at once. 'Tis frightful to us to look upon
a great city in flames, and to see the distractions and misery of
the people ; here is an universal fire through all the cities of the
earth, and an universal massacre of their inhabitants. Whatso-
ever the prophets foretold of the destructions of Juda, Jerusalem,
or Babylon, ( Isa. xxiv. Jer. li. and Lamentations,) in the high-
est strains, is more than literally accomplished in this last and
general calamity ; and those only Miat arc spectators of it, can
make its history.

The disorders in nature, and the inanimate world, will be no
less strange and unaccountable, than those iu mankind. Every
element and every region, so far as the bounds of this fire ex-
tend, will be in a tumult and a fury, and the whole habitable
world running into confusion. A world is sooner destroyed
than made, and nature relapses hastily into that chaos state, out

5T8

Hht Wondzrs df

of which she came by slow and leisurely motions ; as an army
advances into the field.by just artd regular marches, but when it
is broken and routed, it flies with precipitation, and one cannot
describe its posture. Fire is a barbarous enemy, it gives no
mercy ; there is nothing but fury and rage, ami ruin and destruc-
tion, wheresoever it prevails. A storm or hurricane, though it
be but the force of air, makes a strange havoc where it comes ;
but devouring flames, or exhalations set on fire, have still a far
greater violence, and carry more terror along with them. Thun-
der and earthquake are the sons of fire, and we know nothing
in all nature more impetuous or more irresistibly destructive
than these two. And accordingly in this last war of the ele-
meuts. we may be sure they will bear tlieir parts, and do great
execution in the several regions of the world. Earthquakes and
subterraneous eruptions will tear the body and bowels of the
earth, and thunders and convulsive motions of the air rend the
skies. The waters of the sea will boil and struggle with streams
of sulphur that run into them, which will make them fume and
smoke, and roar beyond ;i 11 storms and tempests; and these
noises of the sea will be answered again from the land, by fal-
ling rocks and mountains. This is a small part of the disor-
ders of that day.

But it is not possible from any station, to have a full prospect
of this last scene of the earth, for it is a mixture of fire and
darkness. This new temple is fillecl with smoke, while it is con-
secrating, and none can enter into it. But I am apt to think, if
we could look dowu upon this burning world, from above the
clouds, and have a full view of it in all its parts, we should think it
a Uvely representation of hell itself. For fire and darkness are
the two chief things by which that state, or that place uses to be
described ; and they are both here mingled together, with all
other ingredients that make that tophct that is prepared of old.
Here are lakes of fire and brimstone, rivers of melted glowing
matter; ten thousand volcanos vomiting flames all at once:
thick darkness, and pillars of smoke twisted about with wreaths
of flame, like fiery snakes; mountains of earth thrown into the
air, and the heavens dropping down in lumps of fire. These
things will be literally true concerning that day and that state of
the earth.

But if we suppose the storm over, and that the fire hath got a
complete victory Over all other bodies, and subdued every thing:
to itself; the conflagration will end in a deluge of fire, or in a
sea of fire, covering the whole globe of the earth ; for when
the exterior region of the earth is melted into a fluor, like molten
glass or running metal, it will according to the nature of otlrcr

jYuture and Providence.

fluids, fill all vacuities and depressions, and fall into a regular
surface* at an equal distance every where from its centre.

Where are now the great empires of the world, and their great
imperial cities ? Their pillars, trophies, und monuments of glo-
ry ? Shew me where they stood, read the inscription, tell me
the Victor's name. What remains, what impressions, what
difference or distinction do you see in this mass of fire ? Rome
' itself eternal Rome, the great city, the empress of the world,
whose domination and superstition, ancient and modern, make a
great part of the history of this earth ; what is become of her
now? She laid her foundation deep, and her palaces were
strong find sumptuous: She glorified herself, and lived delirious-
ly ; and said in her heart, I sit a queen, and shall see no sorrow.
But her hour is come, she is wiped away from the face of the
earth, and buried in perpetual oblivion. But it is not cities on-
ly, and works of men's hands, but the everlasting hills, the moun-
tains and rocks of the eartli are melted as wax before the sun ;
and their place Is no where to be found. Here stood the Alps,
a prodigious range of stone, the load of the earth, that covered
many countries, and reached their arms from the oqean to the
Black Sea : this huge mass of stone is softened and dissolved
as a tender cloud into rain. Mere stood the African mountains,
and Atlas, with his top above the clouds. There was frozen
Caucasus, and Taurus, and Imaus, and the mountains of Asia.
And yonder towards the north, stood the Riphtean hills, clothed
in ice and snow. All these are vanished, dropt away as the snow
upon their heads, and swallowed up in a red sea of fire. The
earth will now undoubtedly assume that form and condition,
which is intimated (that it will assume on that day of fire)
Rev. xx. 14. And death and hell were cast into the lake of
Jire. This is the second death. It is plain therefore, that he
of whom it is said — strong is the Lord God who judgeth her —
will at this period of the earth's dissolution, sling it as out of
the midst of a sling, from its orb, into the lake of fire which,
no doubt, is somewhere located in the great field of space, and
flames and sparkles as a comet, or burns as a sun to some oth-
er system, or rolls as a globe of darkness, encompassed with
its own smoke and horror. How can it be otherwise since this
lake of fire is spoken of in the scriptures, as being the place
prepared for the devil and his angelsy and therefore a work
Createdy and if so, it possesses location and occupies space.
How dreadful will this day of vengeance be to those who had
pleasure in unrighteousness, when the earth shall take its eter-
nal farewell of its cooling breezes, and of its fountains of wa-
ters, its verdent forests and flowery mountains, to sink into
that sea of fire whose burnings shall not be quenched. Great

58<)

TheWonders of

and marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty ; just and
true are thy ways, thou King of Saints. Who would not fear
thee, O Lord, and glorify thy name, for thy judgments are made
manifest. *

THE INFIDEL'S CHEMICAL MISTAKE DETECTED.

On this passage of Holy writ Infidels have remarked that St.

that Gold was Perishable : Dr . wi. Clarke's note on this passage
is well worthy attention.

As the apostle, on verse 7. mentions gold, and gold chemical-
ly examined and tried : and as this figure frequently occurs in
the Sacred Writings ; I think it necessary to say something bere
of the nature and properties of that metal.

Gold is defined by chemists to be the most perfect,, the most
ductile, the most tenacious, and the most unchangeable of all
metals. Its specific gravity is about 19.3. A cubic foot of pore
gold, cast and not hammered, weighs 1346/6. In its native
state, without mixture, it is yellow ; and has no perceptible smell
nor taste. When exposed to the action of the fire, it becomes
red hot before it melts ; but its melting suffers no alteration ;
but if a strong heat be applied while in fusion, it becomes of a
beautiful green colour. The continual action of any furnace,
howsoever long applied, has no effect on any of its properties.
It has been kept in a state of fusion for several months, in the
furnace of a glasshouse without suffering the smallest change.
The electric and galvanic fluids, inflame and convert it into a
purple oxyd, which is volatilized in the form of *.raoke. In the
focus of a very powerful burning-glass it becomes volatilized,
and partially vitrified ; so that we may say with the apostle,
that, though gold is tried by the fire, abides the action of all
culinary fires, howsoever applied, yet it perisheth by the celes-
tial fire and the sokir influence, the rays of the sun, collected in
the focus of powerful burning-glass, and the application of the
electric fluid, destroy its colour, and alter and impair all its pro-
perties. This is but a late discovery ; and, previously to it, a
philosopher would have ridiculed St. Peter for saying, gold that
perisheth.

Gold is so very tenacious that a piece of it drawn into wire,
one-tenth of an inch in diameter, will sustain a weight of 500/6.
without breaking. :

GOLD THAT PERISHETH.

St. Pete*.

Nature and Providence.

561

One grain of gold may be so extended, by its great mallea-
bility, as to be easily divided into two millions of parts ; and a
cubic inch of gold into nine thousand, five fnindred, and twenty-
three millions, eight hundred, and nine thousand, five hundred
and twenty-three parts ; each of which may be distinctly seen by
the naked eye !

A grain and a half of gold may be beaten into leaves of one
inch square ; whicn if intersected by parallel lines, drawn at
right angles to each other, and distant only the 1 OOdth part of
an inch, will produce twenty-five millions of little squares, each
of which may be distinctly seen without the help of glasses !

The surface of any given quantity of gold, according to Mr.
Magellan,- may be extended by the hammer 150,092 times!
* Eighty nooks, or two thousand leaves, 6f what is called
leaf-gold, each leaf measuring 3.3* square inches, viz. each
leaf containing 10.89 square inches, weighs less than 384
grains : each book, therefore, er twenty-five leaves, is equal to
272.23 inches, and weighs about 4.8 grains ; so that each
grain^of gold will produce 56.718, or nearly fifty-seven square
inches!

The thickness of the metal thus extended, appears to beno
more than the one 283.050th of an inch ! One pound, or six-
teen ounces of gold, would be sufficient to gild a silver wire suf-
ficient, in length, to encompass the whole terraqueous globe or,
to extend 25,000 miles !

Notwithstanding this extreme degree of tenuity, or thinness,
which some carry much higher ; no pore can be discerned in it
by the strongest magnifying powers ; nor is it pervious to the
particles of light ; nor can the subtlest fluids pass through it !
Its ductility has never yet been carried to the uttermost pitch ;
and to human art and ingenuity is, probably, unlimited.

THE ROCK IN HOREB.

An account of the identical rock which was smitten by Moses, from
which flowed a running brook.

[Eng. Meth. Mag.]

The famous Rock in Horeb, antiently called Massab, or Me-
ribath ; and at present the stone of Moses, and the stone of the
fountains ; (t>eing that which Moses struck with his rod, in order
to give water to the children of brael in the wilderness, Exod.
17) is preserved to this day, without the least injury from time

^$2 Z3k fVondew of

or accidents ; and is certainly a fragment from Mount Sinai ; a*
appears from Dr. Shaw's description of it. " It is (says he) a
block of granite marble, about six yards square, lying tottering
as it were, and loose in the middle of the valley of Rephidim,
and seems to have formerly belonged to mount Sinai, which
hangs in a variety of precipices, all over the plain." (Shaw's
Travels p. 352.)

It may not be unacceptable to the reader, to continue the de-
scription of this rock ; which is as follows : "The waters which
gushed out, and the stream, which flowed withal (Psalm Ixxviii.
20.) have hollowed, across one corner of this rock, a channel,
about two inches deep, and twenty wide, appearing to be in-
crusted all over, like the inside of a tea-kettle, that hath been
long in use. Besides several mossy productions, that are trill
preserved by the dew, we see all over this channel a great num-
ber of holes ; some of them four or five inches deep, and one or
two in diameter, the lively and demonstrative tokens of their
having been formerly so many fountains.

It likewise may be farther observed, that art or chance could,
by no means, bie concerned in the contrivance ; for, every cir-
cumstance points out to us a miracle ; and, in the same manner
with the rent in the rock of mount Calvary at Jerusalem, never
fails to produce a religious surprise in all who see."

Similar to which, is Dr. Pocock's account of this rock ; and
also that of the Prefetto's of Egypt ; each of which the reader
may see inserted in the Bishop of Clogher's translation of a
manuscript journal from Grand Cairo to mount Sinai, page 14,
2d edition.

It may be observed farther, that, in considering this rock, as
a fragment, the miracle, of the water's flowing out of it, will
appear much greater, than if it had beeu in its natural bed, or
united to the solid orb of the earth, for, it is not uncommon, in
breaking up, or only boreing through the regular strata of the
earth, to enter into a natural fissure, which, communicating with
the abyss, is always full of water ; and when such is broken into,
a stream of water will immediately issue out, and continue flow-
ing : but as this rock was separate, and detached from the regu-
lar and undisturbed strata ; and lying loose upon the surface of
the earth, it cannot be supposed to have had any communica-
tion with the natural fissures ; and, therefore, the water, that
proceeded from it, must have been owing to a supernatural
cause, which is agreeable to what an ancient traveller (M.
Beaumgarton, a German nobleman, who travelled into Arabia
in the year 1507: see his travels in Churchill's collection of
voyages, vol. 1. p. 337,) remarks : which miracle (of the wa-
ter's flowing out of the above mentioned rock) was the more

Nkture and Providence.

Wonderful, because this stone, though it is separated from the
rest of the rock ; and is almost of a square figure ; yet is fixed
in the ground by only one pointed corner ; and, consequently,
not in so fit a posture to extract moisture from the earth } and
therefore its sending forth such abundance of water must have
been the work of an Almighty hand."

We may add likewise, that this stone was so small, exposed
in such a manner, and situated in such a tottering condition,
that it might easily be viewed on all sides ; and even turned up*
side down, had the people, who attended Moses, suspected any
cheat, or imposture in this affair. And, in order to take off all
suspicion of this kind, might be one reason, why God made
choice of such a stone as this, for the operation of this miracle ;
which was so extraordinary, and attended with such indubitable
proof, that the persons, who had just before murmured, and
questioned the divine mission of Moses ; now entirely acqui-
esced in it.

And, if such persons as Corah, Dathan, Abiram, and their
companies (who were ready on every occasion to find fault with
Moses, and dispute his authority) were satisfied ; surely our
present unbelievers (who lay claim to great modesty and reason)
ought to be so, since the miracle was examined by their own set
of people ; add they may have occular demonstration of the
% truth of it at this day.

A WONDERFUL PROVIDENCE.

The narrative and wonderful suffering of Ambrose Gwinett,
who was condemned for a supposed murder and hanged and
gibbetted, but was restored to life, and lived to endure much suf-
fering for mfrny years.

[Eng. Meth. Mag.]

I was born of reputable parents in the city of Canterbury,
where my father, living at tne sign of the Blue Anchor, dealt
in slops. He had but two children, a daughter and myself,
and having given me a good education, at the age of sixteen
he bound me apprentice to Mr. George Roberts, an'Attorney in
our town, with whom I stayed four years and three quarters.

My sister being grown up, had now been married something x
more than a twelvemonth to one Sawyer, a seafaring man, who
having got considerable prizes, my father also giving him two
hundred pounds with my sister, quilted his profession and srt

584

The Wonders of

up a public house within three miles ofthe place of his nativity,
which was Deal.

I had frequent invitations to and pass a short time with
them; and in the autumn of the year 1709, having obtained my
master's consent, I left the city of Canterbury on foot, die 17th
day of September.

Through some unavoidable delays on the road, the evening
was cousiderably advanced before I reached Deal ; and so
tired was I, that, had my life depended on it, 1 could not have
got as far as my sister's that night. At this time there were
many of her majesty's ships lying in the harbour ; for the
English were then at war with the French and Spaniards:
besides which, I found this was the day for holding the. yearly
fair, so that the town was filled to that degree, that a bed was
not to be got for love or money. I went seeking a lodging
from house to house, to no purpose, till being quite spent, I
returned to the public house where I had first made enquiry,
desiring leave to sit by their kitchen fire, and rest myself till
morning.

The publican and his wife happened to be acquainted with
my brother aud sister, and finding by my discourse, that I was
a relation of theirs, and going to visit them, the landlady pre-
sently said she would endeavour to get a bed ; and going out
of the kitchen she quickly after called me into a back parlour.
Here I saw sitting by the fire a middle aged man in a night-
gown and cap, who was reckoning money at a table. Uncle,
said the woman, as soon as I entered, this is a brother of our
friend Mrs. Sawyer ; he cannot get a bed any where, and is
tired after a long journey. You are the only one that lies in
this house alone : will you give him part of yours ? To this
the man answered, that she knew he had been out of order ;
that he was blooded that day, and consequently a bedfellow
could not be very agreeable ; however, said he, rather than
the young man shall sit up, he is welcome to sleep with nje.
After this we sat awhile together, when having put his money
in a canvas hag, into the pocket of his night gown, he took the
candle and I followed him up to bed.

How long I slept, I cannot exactly determine : but 1 con-
jecture it vw^ *bout three o'clock in the morning when I awoke
with a vHroftt cholic. My bedfellow who was awake, observ-
ing that T was very uneasy, asked me what was the matter? I
informed him, and begged he would direct me to the necessary*
He told me, when I was clown stairs, I must turn on my right
hand, and e;o straight into the garden at the end of which it
was, just over the sea ; but added, as you may possibly find
some difficulty in opening the door, the string being brolv

Nature and Providence.

685

which pulls up the latch, I will give you a penknife which you
may open it with through a chink in the boards. So saying,
he put his hand into his waistcoat pocket, which lay on the
bed, and gavc»me a middling sized penknife.

I hurried on a few of my clothes, and went down stairs.
On unclasping the penknife to open the door of the necessary
a piece of money which &tnck between the blade and the groove
in the handle fell into my hand. I did not examine what it
was, nor indeed could I well see, there being but a very faint,
moon light, so I put them together carelessly in my pocket.

1 apprehend I staid in the garden pretty near a quarter of
an hour. When 1 relurned to (he chamber, I was surprised to '
find my bedfellow gone. I called several times, but receiving
no answer, 1 went t:» bed, and again fell asleep.

About six oVlock I arose, nobody yet b -lug up in the house.
The gentleman was not yet returned to bed, cr, if lie was, had
again left it. I dressed myself with what haste 1 could, being
impatient to see my sister, and the reckoning being paid over,
night, 1 let myself out at the street door.

Having got to my sister's, she and her husband received me.
About eleven o'clock in the forenoon, when standing at the
door, my brother-in-law being by my side, we saw three horse-
men galloping towards us. As soon as they came up to the
house, they stopped and one of them alighting, suddenly seized
me by the collar, crying, You are the queen's prisoner. I de-
sired to know my crime, lie said, I should know that as soon
as I came to Deal, whore I must immediately go with them.
One of them, then told my -brother that liic night before, 1 had
committed a murder and robbery.

Presently a warrant was produced, and 1 was carried back
to Deal, attended by the three men ; my brother with another
friend accompanying us, who knew not what to say, nor how
to comfort me.

Being arrived in town 1 was immediately hurried to tlue
house where 1 had slept. We were met at the door by a
crowd of people, every one crying, Which is he ! Which is
he ! As soon as I entered, 1 was accosted by the publican's wife
in tears, O cursed wretch ! What hast thou done! Thou hast
murdered and robbed my poor, dear uncle, and all through inc
who put thee to lie with him. But where hast thou hid his
money? and what hast thou done with his body? Thou shall
be hanged on a gallows as high as a may-pole. My brother
begging her lobe pacified, I was taken 'into a private room.
They' then asked me, where 1 had put the niorey? and hovv I
had disposed of the body? I asked them whit jn-mey? and
wlio-e hodv thev n.eant ? Thev then said I had killed t!u>

:\

**? The Iftndcn •/

person 1 had laiu with the preceding night, for (lie sake of sc
large sum of money 1 had seen with him. I fell do^n upou
my kne^s, calling God to witness, I knew nothing- of what
they accused me. Then somebody cried, carry'him up stairs,
said I was brought into the chamber where I had slept. Here
tht man of the Louse went to the bed, and turning down the
clothes, showed the sheets, pillow and bolster dyed in blood.
Me asked me did I know any thing of that? I declared to
(j'od I did not. A person in the room said, young man,
something very odd must have past here last night ; for lying
in the next chamber, I heart! groanings, and going up and
down stairs more than once or twice. I then told them the
circumstance of rny illness, and that 1 had been up andVlouo
myself, with all that passed between my bedfellow and m*.
Somebody proposed to search me ; several began to turn i.jy
pockets inskie out, and from the waistcoat tumbled the pen-
knife and the piece of money already mentioned, which I had
entirely forgot. Upon seeing these the woman immediately
screamed out, O God ! there's my uncle's penknife ! Then
taking up the money, and calling to the people about her, Here
said «he, is what puts the villain's guilt beyond a doubt. 1 can
swear to this William and Mary's guinea ; my uncle has Ion?
had it by way of pocket-piece, and engraved the first letters of
his name upon it. She then began to cry afresh, while I could
do nothing but continue to call Heaven to witness that I was as
innocent as the child unborn. The constable who had heard
me mention the having gone down into the garden, tolJ the
people I must have thrown the body down the necessary, and
j-oing thither, lK»re, said he, after having cut the throat, he has
Vt the body down into the sea. This every body immediately
<* scented to. Then, said the master of the house, it is in vain to
' #« I\ for the body any further: for there was a spring tide last
;. -i-'hi which has carried it off.

he consequence o/ these proceedings w.is, an immediate ex-

\.:fion before a Justice of the peace; after which 1 suffered
*• ; • t^: and rigorous imprisonment in the county town of Maid-
For sometime, my father, my master and my relations

*i' inclined to think me innocent, because I declared I was
v «. as well I might, and in compliance with my earnest request,

advertisement was jnj Wished in the London Gazette, repre-

:ing my deplorable circumstances, and offering a reward to
■ iv person who could give tidings of Mr. Richard Collins
x\\\€ man f was supposed to have murdered) either alive or dead.
No information,, however, of any kind coming to hand, at the
assixes J was brought to trial, and circumstances appearing
strong against me. I received sentence to be carried iu a can

Nature and Providence. Sft7

tin the Wednesday fortnight following to the town of Deal,

and there to be hanged before the innkeeper's door where I
had committed the murder ; and then to be hung in r
within a stone's throw of my brother's house.

The Monday was now arrived before the fatal (in; -
end was to be put to my miseries. I was called down niiij < ;--
court of the prison; but 1 own I was not a little >hocked, when
I found it was to be taken measure of for my irons, in whic'i \
was to be hung after execution. A fellow-prisoner appeared
before me in the same woful plight, (he had robbed the mail)
and the smith was measuring hi n when I came down ; while
the paolor, with as much calmness as if he had been ordering
a pair of stays for his daughter, was giving directions in what
manner the irons should be made, so a.-: to support the man who
was remarkably heavy and corpu eut.

Between this and the day of execution, I spent my time alone
in prayer and meditation.

At length Wednesday morning came, and about tiiree o'clock
] was put in a curt; hut sure such a day of wind, rain on-i
thunder, never blew out of the heavens. When .»rin.-l at
Deal, it became so violent that the s'.mt'H' «; I udiee:? « • :r i
scarce sit on their horses: for my on-? (..t;i, I was* iu>t.i ;oie
every object about i»je. But 1 oeard sherH v, :*,;ksjv\' ^ •. .e
executioner, to make what despatch he could, h > ^ iiJi » ii *v»
least emotion, tucked me up like a log of wo ;i«> i;" itnc »..
scions of what he was doing

I can give no account of what I felt when luiv.:iu-, ■■■■
member, after being turned oil", something appia;i I .ifv.»--
like a blaze of lire ; nor do I know how long J Jiunu : • • ■ «;
the violence of the weather favoured me greatly in ihat cu\ . '
stance.

What I am now going to relate, I learned from my brother,
which was, That having hung half an hour, the OicrilPs office u«
all went off, and 1 wa = cut down by the "\»cu!io»ier ; but when
he cam»»to put the irons upon me, it wa- found that those pre-
pared for the other man, which were too large for me, had
been seit instead of mine : this they remedied by stuffing rags
between my body and the hoops, after which I was taken to
the place appointed, unci htiug on a gibbet ready prepared.

The cloth over my face being ^lightly tied, was soon detach-
ed by the w ind, and probably its blowing on my face expedited
my recovery ; certain it is, that in this situation I caine to
myself.

"The gibbet being placed at one corner of a field, where my
sister's cows were, a lad came to drive thein home for evening-
milking. The creatures which were feeding almost under me,

5SS

The tl onders of

brought him near the gibbet. In the very moment be looked
up, he saw me open my eyes, and move my under jaw. He
immediately ran home to inform the people at bis maker's. At
first they hardly believed his story ; but at length, my brother
and others came out, and by the time they got to the field, I
was so much alive, that my groans were very audible.

In their confusion, the first thing they thought of was a lad-
der. One of my brother's men getting up, put his hand to my
stomach, and felt my heart beating strongly. But it was found
impossible to detach mv from the gibbet, without cutting it
down. Acc ordingly a saw was r;ot for that purpose ; and in
less than half an hour, having frtvd me from my irons, tbey
got me bled and put into a warm bed.

It i< amazing that though above ciglu persons were entrusted
with this transaction, and 1 remained three <lnys in the place
after it happened, not one betrayed the secret. Early next
morning it was known tha! gibbet was cut down, and it oc-
curred to every body that it was done by my relations, to draw
a veil over their shame, by buiying Hie body; but * hen my
brother was summoned before the mayor, and denied knowing
any thing of the matter, little more stir was made about it; be-
en use he was respected by all the neighbouring gentlemen, and
especially, because 1 persisted in being innocent of the fact for
which I suffered.

Being thus delivered from an ignominious cleat h^ the next
Officii Ity was, how to dispose of my life now I had regained it:
To stay in England was impossible, without exposing myself tn
the terrors of the law. In this dilemma a fortunate cirru in-
stance occurred. There had lain at my brother's bouse, some
of the principal officers of a privateer that was preparing 'for a
eritiie, and just then ready to sail. The captain took me on
board with him ; and proper necessaries being1 provided for
me, my sister giving me ten guineas in my pocket, recommend-
ed me to the protection of (iod and the worthy commander, who
received mc in the light of his clerk, and a sort of umlcr-assist-
ant to his purser.

Having been six months out upon a cruize, and having had
but indifferent success, being on the coast of Florida, then in
the hands of the Spaniards, we fell in with a squadron of their
men of war; and being Consequently taken without .striking
a stroke, we were all brought prisoner*, into the harbour of St.
Helen's. 1 was now rcallv tired of life, and should have been
glad to have ended it in the dungeon, where, with forty other?
of my countrymen, the enemy had put mc ; but alter three
year* confinement, we were let out, in order to be put on
board transports, to be conveyed to Pennsylvania, and from

:\ftlure and PrtvLitncc.

5S9

thence to England. This was r. disagreeable sentence to me,
taking it for granted that a return home would be a return
to the gallows. Being therefore, a tolerable master of the
Spanish language, 1 solicited to be left behind ; which favour
I obtained, by means of the master of the prison : who not
only took me into his house, as soon as my countrymen were
gone; but, in a short time, procured me a small salary from the
governor, for being his deputy.

Indeed, at this particular time the office was by no means
agreeable. The coast had been long infested with pirates, the
most desperate gang of villains that can be imagined ; and
scarce a month passed, but one or other of their vessel? fell
into the governor's hands, when the crew as constantly was
put under my care. Once I very narrowly escaped being
knocked on the head by one of the ruffians, and having the
keys taken from me : another lime I was shot at. It is true,
in both cases the persons suffered for their attempt, and in the
last, I thought a little too cruelly ; for the person that let off
the carbine, was not only put to the torture to confess his ac-
complices, but afterwards broke on the wheel where ho wras
left to expire, the most shocking spectacle 1 evr beheld.

I had been in my office nhput three months, when a ship ar-
rived from Port Royal, another Spanish settlement on the coast,
and nine English prisoners on boa,rd. As they were coming
from the port, to" the governor's house, I thought something
struck me in the face of one of them, that I had been before ac-
quainted with. I could not then stop them; but in about an
hour after, they were brought to the prison, till the governor
signified his f n ther pleasure.

As soon as the poor creatures found I was an Englishman,
they were extremely happy. I now had an opportunity of
taking notice of the man whose fare i thought I knew, when I
was more confirmed that I was not mistaken. At last it came
to my mind, that this was the man for whose supposed murder
I suffered «o much in England.

The next morning 1 told (hem, if any of them had a mind
to go about the town I would procure them permission, and go
with them. This man said he would go. The three other
prisoners that went along with us, walked a little before. I
then looked him in the face, and said, Sir, were you ever at
Deal ? At that instant, putting his hand on my shoulder, tears
came into his eyes. Sir, said I, if you are the man 1 take
you for, j ou here see one of the most unfortunate of human-
kind. Pray, is your name Richard Collins ? lie said, Yes.
I replied, then I was hanged and gibbetted on your account in
England.

The HTunders of

Alter our mutual surprise, he made rue give liim a circum-
stantial account of every thing that happened to me, from the
time we parted. When I came to the circumstance of my be-
ing handed, and afterwards hung in chains, I could hardly
prevail on him to believe my relation, till backed by the
most solemn asseverations, pronounced in the most seriotu
manner. When I had done, Well, said he, young man, (for
I was then but in my 25th ytar; he might be about three
and forty) if you have sustained misfortunes on my account,
do not imagine^ (though I cannot lay them At yoor door)
that 1 have been without my sufferings. God knows my
heart, I am exceeding sorry for the injustice which has been
done you ; but the ways of Providence are unsearchable.
He then infoi med me by what accident all my troubles had been
brought about.

When you left me in bed, said he, having waked with an
oppression I could not account for, 1 found myself exceeding!)
sick and weak, 1 groaned and sighed, and thought myself going
to die, when, accidentally putting ray hand to my left arm, in
which I had been bled the morning before, I found the bandage
haviftg slipped, the orifice was opened, and a great flux of
blood ensued. This immediately accounted for the condition
I found myself in. I thouglu, however, I would not disturb the
family, which had gone to bed very late. 1 therefore muster-
ed all my strength and got up, with my night gown loose about
me, in order to go to the man who had bled me, to have my
arm tied up again. When Lgot into the street, a band of men.
armed with cutlasses and hangers, came and seized me, and
hurried tile to the beach. I begged and prayed, but they soon
silenced my cries, by clapping a gag in my mouth. At first,!
took them lor a press gang, though 1 soon found they were
a gang belonging to a privateer, aboard which they immedi-
ately hurried me. But before I got thither, loss of blood oc-
casioned me to faint away. The surgeon of the ship, 1 suppose,
tied up my arm ; for when my senses returned, I found myself
in a hammoc, and somebody feeling my pulse. The vessel be-
ing then under way, 1 asked where 1 was ? They said I was
safe enough. 1 immediately called for my night gown, which
w as brought me ; but of a considerable sum of money that wa>
in the pocket, I could get no account. I complained to the
captain of die robbery his men had committed ; but he laughed,
and said I should soon have prize-money enough : so I was
obliged to submit, to and for three months was forced to work
before the ma*. At last we met the same fate that you did : and
by adventures parallel to your own* you sec me here, on my re-

Ndture *nd Prvvidtiice. , x .591

turn to onr native country ; and if you will accompany me I
shall think myself happy. *

There was nothing now to prevent my returning to England ; .
and the ship being to sail in ten days, Mr. Collins and I de-
termined to embark in it. When I told my master my resolu-
tion, he did not dissuade me from it ; because it gave him the
opportunity of getthig the office 1 held for a kinsman of his,
to whom that very day 1 delivered up my. trust. And here
Providence was no less remarkable to me than in other parti-
culars of my life ; for that night the pirates seized on the young
man, while locking up the wards, took the keys from him, and
left him for dead : and before the alarm could be given, five of
them -made their escape, by means of piratical boats that kept
hovering about the coast.

On the 18th of November, 1712, I sent my trunk on board
the Nostra Senora, Michael Deronza, . master. About seven
o'clock that evening, being in company with Signor Gaspar, ray
master, a lad came up, and said, the boat had been waiting for
r.? ; and that Mr. Collins was on board. I ran Into the house
to take leave of the family. I then made what haste {could to
the quay, hut found the boat had put off, and left word that I
should overtake them at a little bay. 1 ran along the shore,
and imagined I had a sight of the boat, and halloed as loud as
I could ; they answered, and put about to take me in : but we
had scarce got fifty yards from laud, when, on looking for Mr.
Collins, I missed him : and then I found that instead of getting
on board my own boat, which 1 could see a considerable way
a-head, I had got into a boat belonging to the pirates. I at-
tempted to leap overboard, but was prevented by one of the
crew, who gave me a stroke on the head, which laid me sense-
less.

With these pirates I continued some years, till they upon a
dispute, threw me overboard. I was saved by a boat belonging
to a Spanish ship. After various misfortunes, our ship was
taken by an Algerine rover ; the greatest part of the crew was
killed, and the rest taken prisoners, among which I was one,
having lost one of my legs in the action.

After this, I passed a long and painful slavery in Algiers, till
with other English captives, I was released by agreement be-
tween the Dey of Algiers, and his Britannic majesty. In the
year 1 730, I returned to England. The first thing 1 did was to
enquire after ray relations, but all those nearest to me were
dead ; and I found Mr. Collins had never returned home, who I
suppose died in his passage. By all these hardships. I was so
enfeebled, that 1 could not work ; and thereior«» f was forced to
get my living by begging.

The Wonders of

+1n interesting account of tlie maimer of embalming, as prar,iscd
by the ancients.

[By Adam Clarke, LL. D.]

The physicians."] Rophim, the healers, those whose business it
was to heal or restore the body from sickness by the adminis-
tration of proper medicines ; and when death took placr. m
heal or preserve it from" dissolution, by embalming ; and llnis
give it a sort of immortality, or everlasting duration. Tiie ori-
ginal word chanaty which uv translate to embalm, hns undoubt-
edly the same meaning with the Arabic hnnata, which also sig-
nifies to embalm, or to preserve from putrefaction, by the ap-
plication of spices, be. and hence hantaty an embalmer. The
word is used to express the reddening of leather ; and probablv
the" ideal meaning may be something analogous to our tanning,
which consists in removing the moisture, an 1 closing up the
pores, so as to render them impervious to wet. This probablv
is the grand principle in embalming, and whatever effects dii>,
will preserve flesh as perfectly as skin. Who can doubt that a
human muscle, undergoing the same process of tanning as the
hide of an ox, would not become equally incorruptible. I have
seen a part of the muscle of a human thigh, that having come
into contact with some tanning matter, either in the coffin, or in
the grave, was in a state of perfect soundness, when the rest of
the body had been long reduced to earth ; and it exhibited the
appearance of a thick piece of well tanned leather.

In the art of embalming the Egyptians excelled all nations in
the world : with them it was. a common practice. Instances of
the perfection to which they carried this art, may be seen in the
numerous mummies, as they are tailed, which are found in dif-
ferent European cabinets, and which have been all brought
from Egypt. This people not only embaimed men and women,
and thus kept the bodies of th:*ir beloved relatives from the em-
pire of corruption, but they embalmed useful animals also. 1
have seen the body of the Ibis thus preserved ; and though the
work had been done for som? thousands of years, the very feath-
ers were in complete preservation, and the colour of the plu-
mage discernible. The account of tins curious process, the ar-
ticle used, and the manner of applying them, I subjoin from
Herodotus and Diodor:is Siculus, as also the innnner of their
mournings and funeral ^rlrmnities, which are highly illustrative
of the subj':f-N in tVi< chapter.
» When any man i f qn;!:i'y dies, says Herodotus, all the wo-

men of that f-m'dy I)<snr th:-:r ii» ;Ui- and faces with dirt : the:?

Nature and Providence.

593

leaving the body at home, they go lamenting up and down the
city with all their relations ; their apparel being girt about (hem,
and their breasts left naked. On the other hand, the men, hav-
ine: likewise their clothes girt about them, beat themselves. —
These things being done, they carry the dead body to be em-
balmed ; for which there are certain persons appointed who
profess this art. These, when the body is brought to them,
show to those that bring it, certain models of dead persons in
wood, according to which any of the deceased may be painted.
One of these they say is accurately made like to one, whom, in,
such a matter. I do not think lawful to name ; (probably Osiris,
one of the principal gods ot Egypt, is here intended,) then they
shew a second inferior to it, and of an easier price ; and next a
third cheaper than the former, and of a very small value ; which
being seen, they ask them after which model the deceased shall
be represented. When they have agreed upon the price, they
depart ; and those with whom the dead corpse is left, proceed
to embaluTit after the following manner: first of all. they with
a crooked iron draw the brain out of the head through the nos-
trils, next with a sharp Ethiopic stone, they cut up tiiat part of
the abdomen called the ilia, and that way draw out all the bow-
els, which having cleansed and washed with palm-wine, they
again rinse and wash with wire perfumed with pounded odours ;
then filling up the belly with pure myrrh and cassia grossly
powdered, and all other odours except frankincense, they sew
it up again. Havipg so done, they salt it up close with nitre,
seventy days; for longer they may not s?lt it. After this num-
ber of days are over, they wash the corpse again, and then roll
it up with fine linen, all besmeared with a soYt of gum, common-
ly used by the Egyptians instead of glue.

Then is the body restored to its relations, who prepare ft
wooden coffin for it in the shape and likeness of a man, and
then put the embalmed body into it. and thus inclosed, place it
in a repository in the house* setting it upright against the wall.
After this manner, they, with great expense, preserve their
dean* ; whereas those, who to avoid too great a charge, desire a
mediocrity, thus embalm them : they neither cut the belly nor
pluck out the entrails, but fill it with clysters of oil of cedar in-
jected up the anus, and then salt it the aforesaid number of days.
On Ihe. last of these they press out the cedar clyster, by the
same way they had injected it, which has such virtue and effica-
cy that it brings out along with it the bowels wasted, and the
nitre consumes the flesh, leaving only the skin and bones : hav-
ing thus done, tliey restore the dead body to the relations, doing
nothing more. The third way of embalming is for those of yet
meaner circumstances ; they with lotions wash the belly, then

694 *

The Wonders of

dry it up with salt for seventy days, and afterwards deliver it to
be carried away. Nevertheless, beautiful women and ladies of
quality were not delivered to be embalmed till three or four
days after they had been dead ;" for which Herodotus' assigns a
sufficient reason, however degrading to human nature. "Bat
if any stranger or Egyptian was either killed by a crocodile, or
drowned in the river, the city where he was cast up was to em-
balm and bury him honourably in the sacred monument, whom
no . one, no, not a relation or friend, but the priests of the
Nile only might touch ; because they buried one who was some-
thing more than a dead man." Herod. Euterpe, 120. edit.
Gale.

Diodorus Siculus relates the funeral ceremonies of the Egyp-
tians more distinctly and clearly, and with some very remarka-
ble additional circumstances. "When any one among the E-
gyptians die," says he, " all bis relations and friends, putting
dirt upon their heads, go lamenting about the city, till such time
as the body shall be buried : in the mean time, they abstain
from baths and wine, and all kinds of delicate meats, neither do
they, during that time, wear any costly apparel. The manner
of their burials is threefold : one very costly, a second sort less
chargeable, and a third very mean. In the first, they say, there
is spent a talent of silver ; in the second, twenty tnina ; but in
the last, there is very little expense. Those who have the care
of ordering the body, are such as have been taught that art by
their ancestors. These shewing each kind of burial, ask them
alter what manner they will have the body prepared ; when
they have agreed upon the manner, they, deliver the bodv to
such as are usually appointed for this office. First, he who has
the name of scribe, laying tt upon the ground, marks about the
flank on the left side how much is to be cut away ; then he who
is called paraschistes, the cutter or dissector, with an Ethiopic
stone, cuts away as much of the flesh as the law commands, and
presently runs away as fast as he can ; those who are present
pursuing him, cast stones at him, and curse him, hereby turning
all the execrations, which they imagine due to his office, upon
him. For whosoever offers violence, wounds; or does any kind
of injury to a body of the same nature with himself, fhey think
him worthy of hatred ; but those who are called taricheuta, the
embalmers, they ecteem worthy of honour and respect ; for they
"are familiar with their priests, and go into the temples as holy
men, without any prohibition. As soon as they come to em-'
balm the dissected body, one of them thrusts bis hands through
the wound into the abdomen, and draws forth all the bowels but
the heart and kidnies, which another washes and cleanses with
wine; fm4eof palms and aromatic odours. Lastly, having wash*

JVcUure and Providence.

$95

ed the body, they anoint it with oil of cedar and other things for
about thirty days, and afterwards with myrrh, cinnamon, and
other such like matters ; which have not only a power to pre-
serve it a long time but -dso give it a sweet smell, after which
they deliver it to ihe kindred in such manner, that every mem-
ber remains whole and enure, and no part of it changed, but the
beauty and shape of the fore, seem just as they were before;
and the person may be known, even the eyebrows and eyelids
remaining as they were at first. By this means many of the
Egyptians, keeping the dead bodies of their ancestors in mag-
nificent houses, so perfectly see the true visage and counte-
nance, of those that died many ages before they themselves
were born, that in viewing the proportions of every one of
them, and the lineaments of their faces, they take as much de-
light as if they were stiU living among them. Moreover the
friends and nearest relations of the deceased, for the greater
pomp of the solemnity, acquaint the judges and the rest of their
friends with the time prefixed for the funeral or day of sepul-
ture, declaring that such a one (calling the dead by his name) is
such a day to pass the lake, at which time above forty judges ap-
pear, and sit together in a semicircle, in a place prepared on
the hither side of the lake, where a ship, provided before hand
by such as have the care of the business, is haled up to the shore,
and steered by a pilot whom the Egyptians in their language
called Charon. Hence they say, Orpheus upon seeing this
ceremony, while he was in Egypt, invented the fable of hell,
partly imitating therein the people of Egypt, and partly adding
somewhat of his ownl The ship being thus brought to the lake
side, before the coffin is put on board, every one is at liberty by
the law to accuse the dead of what he thinks him guilty. If any
one proves he was a bad man, the judges gives' sentence, that
the body shall be deprived of sepulture ; but in case the inform-
er be convicted of false accusation, then he is severely punished.
If no accuser appear, or the information prove false, theu all
the kindred of the deceased leave off mourning, and begin to
set forth his praises, yet soy nothing of his birth, (as the custom
is among the Greeks; because the Egyptians all think themselves
equally noble ; but they recount how the defeased was educa-
ted from his youth, and brought up to man's estate, exalting his
piety towards the gods, and justice towards men, his chastity
and other virtues w herein he excelled ; and lastly pray and call
upon the inferual deities (the gods below) to receive him into'
the societies of the just. The common people take this from
the others, and consequently all is said in his praise by a loud
shout, setting likewise forth his virtues in the highest strains of
commendation, as one that is to live forever with the infernal

590

TJie Wonders if

gods. Then those that have tombs of their own, inter the corpse
in places appointed for that purpose, and they thai have no&e,
rear up the body in its coffin against some -strong wall of their
house. But such as are denied sepulture on account of some
crime or debt, are laid up at home without coffins ; yet when it
shall afterwards happen, that any of their posterity grows rich,
he commonly pays off the deceased person's debts, and gets his
crimes absolved, and so buries him honourably ; for the Egyp-
tians are wont to boast of their parents and their ancestors that
were honourably buried. It is a custom likewise among them
to pawn the dead bodies of their parents to their creditors, but
then those thai do not redeem them fall under the greatest dis-
grace imaginable, and are denied burial themselves at their
deaths." §ee the Necrokedia, or art of embalming by Green-
hill, 4to. pi. 421. who endeavoured in vain to recommend and
restore the art. But he could not give his countrymen Egyp-
tian manners ; for a dead carcase is to the British, an object of
horror ; and scarcely any except a surgeon or an undertaker,
cares to touch it.

An account of the Asiatic Locust^ and of its terrible voraciousness.

[By Adam Clarke, LL. D.]

* To-morrow will I bring the locvsts ] — The word arbeh, a lo-
cust,, is probably from the root rnbah, he multiplied, became
great, mighty, fcc. because of ihe*immense swarms of these an-
^ imals, by which different countries, especially the East are in*
^fcstedi. The -locust, in entomology, belongs to a genus of in-
fect* known among naturalists by the term grylli and includes
three specie^ crickets, grasshoppers, and those commonly called
locusts 5 find as they multiply faster than any other animal in
creation, xbgj^are properly entitled to the name? arbeh, which
might be translated the numerous or multiplied iusect. See this
circumstance referred toJudg. vi. 5. vii. 12. Psal. cv. 34. Jer.
xlvi. 23. li. 14. Joel i. 6. Nahum iii. 15. Judith ii. 19,20.
where the most numerous armies are compared to the arbeh or
locust. The locust has a large open mouth ; and in its tuo
jaws, it has four incisive tpcth, which traverse each other like
scissors, being calculated, froYn their mechanism, to gripe or
cut. Mr. Volney, in Travels in Syria, gives a striking account
of this most awful sconrge of God : *

" Syria partakes together wkh Egypt and Persia, and almost
all the whole middle part of Asia, in that terrible scourge, I

Nature *pd Providence.

»97

mean those clouds of locusts of which travellers have spoken";
the quantity of them is incredible to any person who has not
himself seen them, the earth being covered by them for several
leagues round. The noise they make in browsing the plants
and trees, may be heard at a distance, like an army plundering
in secret. Fire seems to follow their tracks. Wherever their
legions march, the verdure disappears from the country, like a
curtain drawn aside ; the trees and plants despoiled of their
leaves, make the hideous appearance of winter instantly suc-
ceed to the bright scenes of spring. When these clouds of lo-
custs take their flight, in order to Air mount some obstacle, or
the more rapidly, to cross some desert, one may literally say
that the sun i darkened by them." . ^

Baron de Tott gives a similar account : " Clouds of locusts
frequently alight on the plains of the Noguais, (the Tartars) and
giving preference to their fields of millet, ravage them in an in-
stant. Their approach darkens the horizon, and so enormous
is tl eir multitude, it hides the light of the sun. They alight on
the fields, and there form a bed of six or seven inches thick. To t
the noise of their flight, succeeds that of their devouring actively, '
which resembles the rattling of hail stones but its consequen-
ces are infinitely more destructive. Fire itself eats not so fast ;
nor is there any appearance of vegetation to b found when
they again take their flight, and go elsewhere to 'produce new
disasters."

Dr. Shaw, who witnessed most formidable swarms of these in
Barbary, in the years 1724 and 1725, gives the following ac-
count of them: "They were much larger than our grasshop-
pers, and had brown spotted wings, with legs and bodies of a
bright yellow. Their first appearance was towards the latter
end of March. In the middle of April, their numerous swarms,
like a succession of clouds, darkened the sun. In the Month of
MaVj they retired to the adjacent plains to deposit their eggs :
these frere no sooner hatched, in June, than the young brood
first produced, while in their catterpillar or worm-like state,
formed themselves into a compact body of more than a furlong
square, and marching directly forward, climbed over trees,
walls, and houses, devouring every plant in their way. Within
a day or two, another brood was hatched, and advancing in the
same manner, gnawed off the young branches and bark of the
trees left by the former, making a complete desolation. The
inhabitants to stop their progress, made a variety of pits and
trenches all over their fields and gardens, which they filled with
water, or else heaped up therein heath, stubble, be. which they
set on fire, but to no purpose ; for the trenches were quickly
filled up, and the fires extinguished, by infinite swarms succeed-

The Wonders of

ing one another : while the front seemed regardless of danger,
and the rear pressed on so close, that a retreat was altogether
* impossible. In a month's time they threw off their worm-like
state; and in a new form, with wings and legs, and additional
powers, returned to their former voracity." — Shaw's Travels.

AN AWFUL PROVIDENCE,

God is greatly to be fedted in the Assembly of His Saints.

[Eng. Meth. Mag.]

At Amsterdam, in Holland, occured the following remarka-
ble event in the l?th century. As Mr. Fleming, a pious add
godly minister, was preaching on a Lord's day to his congre-
gation, there was observed amidst the multitude three ymiaff
gentlemen, whose behaviour, during divine service, was so inde-
corous and infamous, that it not only attracted the notice of the
people, but also excited the attention of the minister, who, after
a little time, reproved them in public, desiring at least that they
would behave decently while under the sacred roof. This gen-
tle admonition seemed rather to increase than check their
misbehaviour, and thejr most daringly offered still greater con-
tempt to the preaching of the word which they signified by peal-
ing oranges, cracking nut*, making wry mouths at the minister.
The serious preacher was moved a second time to admonish
them, at which they appeared still more enraged than before,
persisting in their ? hameful and profane practices. He was th n
so impressed and shocked at their hardened behaviour, that in
the midst of t!ie discnirsi*, lie in vle a solemn pause, turned and
looked them full in the face for some time, apparently with much
agitation i t his countenance, an 1 then *poke to the three young
men in the following awful and solemn manner : " I am sorry to
be the author of such a dreadful, alarming message to you, and 1
have begged of the Lord to excuse me from it, but he will not,
therefore 1 must not shrink from the painful duty of declaring
the awful and confirmed impression on my mind. I now tell
you that you have not a week longer to live in this world." —
This direful sentence, proceeding from the mouth of a man,
soniewhat excited the doubtful apprehensions of the congrega-
tion, who thought it proceeded froir precipitancy and rashness,
and some of his intimate friends were of opinion, tlmt religion
would suffer reproach for it, especially if it should not prove
rrtte. The minister said, " Let the event prove the truth of it.

JVaiure and Providence. 599

for I am persuaded I was moved by the Spirit of God to say
what I did, as prophetic of their awful end."

Monday passed, and nothing occured : but on the Tuesday, *
one of the young men went on board a vessel to prosecute ati
intended voyage, (as had been fixed previous to the affair,) but
in consequence of a violent storm that arose the ship was driven
on shore, whereby the poor unhappy wretch was launched into
an awful eternity. On Wednesday, another of the young men
was concerned iu a quarrel with some person, the issue of which
was fighting a duel with swords, wherein this unhappy victim fell.
On Thursday, the only surviving one was taken suddenly ill, at
which he begun to be terrified, as two of his sinful companions
were already cut off. He then sent for the same minister whom
he had ridiculed the preceding Sabbath. When Mr. Fleming
arrived at his house, lie asked the young man what he wanted
him for ; the young man begged he would pray with him; when
the minister requested to know what he would have him peti-
tion for, the other told him, "for his life:" "that is not in ray
power to do," said he" "for I am sure you will die." "Then,"
said he, "btgor pray for the life of my soul, if you please."
•The minister so far consented as to/kneel down by his bed-side,
in which posture he continued for a considerable time, and then
arose without speaking a word. He then said to the young
man, that he found his lips so sealed that he could not utter a
syllable on his behalf, and so took his leave of him, when, soon
after, the young man died in horror and despair, which closes
the sad and awful catastrophe.

WORKS OF GOD DISPLAYED.

»

THE; INDIAN ICHNEUMAN.

The Indian Ichneumon is a small creature, whose appearance
is not unlike a weasel. It is of infinite use to the natives, from
its inveterate enmity to serpents, which would otherwise render
every footstep of the traveller dangerous. The proofs of saga-
city in this little animal, are truly surprising, and afford a beau-
tiful instance of the wisdom, with which Providence has fitted
the powers of every creature to its particular situation on the
globe, and rendered them subservieut to the uso of man. The
diminutive Ichneuman attacks without dread, that most fatal of
serpents, the Naja, or Cobra de Capello ; and should it recejve
a wound in the combat, instantly retire and is said to obtain an
antidote from a certain herb, (according to Sparmann, the Ophi-

The-W+nJeri of.

orhita,) after which it returns to the attack, and seldom fails of
vi -tory. An experiment was tried at Columbo, to ascertain the
reality of this circumstance. The Ichneuman provided for th?
purpose, was first shewn the snake in a close room. On beni:*
placed on the ground, he Hid not shew anv inclination whatev-
er to attack his enemy, h it ran jumping about the room to dis-
cover if there was any hole or aperture, by which he might ir^t
out : on finding none, he returned hastily t-> his master, and hid-
ing himself in his master's bosom, could not, by any mean-* be
induced to quit it, or to face the snake. On being carried out
of the house, however, and laid down near his antagonist, in an
open place, he instantly flew at the snake, and soon destroyed
it. He then suddenly disappeared for a few minutes, ami again
returned, as soon as he had found the herb and eaten of it. I(
has recourse to the herb on all occasion?, when engaged with a
snake, whether poisonous or not. The snake procured for thi>
experiment was of the harmless kind. It is likewise a great de-
stroyer of the eggs of crocodiles, which it digs out of the sand,
and even kills multitudes of the young of those terrible reptiles :
it was not, therefore, without some reason that the ancient
Egyptians ranked the Ichneuman among their deities.

The description of this little reptile will naturally excite in
the mind of the Christian, some profitable reflections. First,
we see the great enemy of the Ichneuman is the serpent, and
though so exceedingly formidable, is soon conquered by this ap-
parent insignificant animal. The original and great enemy of
man, is represented as the old serpent, the devil : the vast di-
versity of stratagems and devices he exercises to destroy human
beings, render him awfully formidable ; yet, when man rcsUK
the arch foe is soon put to flight. Agaiu — the Ichneuman, hv
having recourse to a peculiar herb, is enabled to overcome ilir
most dangerous serpent, in defiance of its utmost strength and
venom. It is by the Christian having recourse to the throne of
grace, where he receives that salutary encouragement JWy grac*
is sufficient for thee, that he is not only able to conquer the potent
adversary, but to triumph and glory in tribulation Further-
more, when the Ichneuman had not free access to his valuable
panacea, he durst not venture to attack his enemy ; he was obli-
ged to take refuge in the bosom of his master. What a poor
defenceless creature is the christian, at a distance from his di-
vine panacea, and where shoukllhe chri *ian find refuge, in t!^
time of danger, but in the bosom of his Lord.